Confessions of a Porn Star
by djewellz
Summary: AU - A story about our favorite Bleach girls and their journey to find love. But...how can you find love when you can't tell anybody what you work as? Especially when your job is illegal? Many different pairings, ShunNanao, IchiHime, RenRuki, YoruUra.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Bleach.**  
Rating: **T for now, for language and some adult concepts**  
Warnings!!: **AU, some adult concepts (I think the title says it all), and potentially lemons in later chapters  
**A/N: **Well...I suddenly had a random inspiration to write something along these lines. I couldn't honestly tell anyone why. I don't even know if I'm going to continue it. Perhaps if people like it and want me to...but otherwise, I'll probably can it. If I do continue it though, it wouldn't interfere with any of my other stories. Also...there are way too many categories that I could put this story into, so I just chose Romance, because humor, drama and angst generally all pretty well fit into romance. Also, as far as pairings go...there are way too many to name off of the top of my head, but they are probably going to all be hetero (from ME??? yeah, I know, what can I say, lol?). Other than that...just tell me whether or not I should continue this!!

* * *

**~*Confessions of a Porn Star*~**

Rangiku Matsumoto was sitting on a comfy, bright red armchair, her legs propped up on the desk in front of her, the latest copy of Cosmopolitan magazine open on her legs. She wasn't really interested in what the magazine had to say; she'd already read the Bedside Astrologer, and that was really the only thing the magazine had going for it. She absently wound a piece of her long, strawberry blonde hair around a finger, chewing lazily on her minty gum.

Her bright blue eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. Geez…it was already almost five. Where were the others already? They were supposed to be having a meeting soon, after all. With a soft sigh, she flipped the magazine shut and threw it on the desk. Her colleagues would be here soon; they had to be. With Nanao Ise as their taskmaster, who could ever be late? Propping herself up on the edge of the chair, she picked up a tube of strawberry scented lip gloss off the desk and applied some to her full lips.

Smacking her now sparklingly pink mouth, she smirked and set the tube of makeup down. She could hear their voices; any second now, and the door would burst open to a flurry of activity…any moment now…yeah…three…two…one…

"GODDAMMIT, NANAO! QUIT POKIN' ME IN THE BACK LIKE I'M A FUCKIN' DOG!!"

Kukaku Shiba burst into the room in a flurry of cursing, her long and spiky black hair swirling around her angrily like a cape. She flopped onto a couch and curled her legs underneath her, glaring at the other woman like she had the plague. She was wearing her customary tight red shirt and loose white skirt. Still glaring at the other woman, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it before taking a long drag.

"Honestly, Kukaku, I don't understand how you get any clients at all, the way you carry on," Nanao said coldly, shutting the door to the office behind her. "You act like a two year-old!"

"Better than actin' like a fuckin' old geezer," Kukaku retorted, rolling her eyes.

"What's wrong with acting mature?" Nanao demanded, sitting on the complete opposite side of the couch. Their other colleagues, Yoruichi Shihouin and Nemu Kurotsuchi, sat down between them, similar amused smiles on their faces.

Kukaku just looked at her. "You're a porn star, Nanao," she said. "Let me repeat that – a PORN STAR. There ain't nothin' mature 'bout bein' a porn star."

Nanao just pushed her glasses up haughtily and looked the other direction. "Whatever makes money is a suitable career," she informed the black-haired woman airily. "It doesn't matter how degrading such a job is."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Kukaku snarled.

"Are you two done yet?" Rangiku asked sweetly. They both turned to glare at her, but didn't say anything. The blonde woman smiled and propped her chin onto her interlocked hands. "Good. We have business to discuss!" She absently clicked a few keys on her keyboard, opening up a few documents in front of her. "So, we've got our next assignments all ready to go! Hmm…Yoruichi, Urahara wants to shoot you again with some of his own clients. You game?"

The purple-haired woman snickered. "I'm always game for Kisuke," she smirked.

"Hot shit, honey," Kukaku said, turning to stare at their friend mischievously. "When did you get to callin' him by his first name?"

"When I did him so hard he couldn't speak coherently for three days," Yoruichi said proudly, evoking several catcalls and laughs from the others. Well, from Kukaku and Rangiku anyways. Nanao just rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help the amused glint that came into her dark blue eyes. Nemu didn't say anything.

"So what is he now, your personal little sex slave?" Rangiku asked excitedly.

"Come on, now, Rangiku, you know it's give and take!" Yoruichi said, pouting her lips out a little. She got snickers at that comment. "We both get what we want. We get sex, I get paid for doing shoots and he gets money off the goods."

"Dirty whore," Kukaku said teasingly. She turned to look at Rangiku. "So what do I gotta do?"

"Hmm…lemme check," Rangiku said, turning back to her computer screen, scrolling down a bit. "Well…ooh, your favorite, sweetie. You ready for some Red Light District action?"

Kukaku threw her head back, she was laughing so hard. "I'm always ready for some of that!"

"Honestly, could you get any more vulgar?" Nanao asked, rolling her eyes.

"Actually, probably," Kukaku said, smiling deviously.

"Nemu, you're wanted by that Syazel guy again," Rangiku said, going on with the list of jobs. She eyed the dark-haired woman when she didn't get a response. "You okay with that, honey?"

"I…I don't have much of a choice," Nemu admitted. Rangiku felt her heart constrict a bit seeing that. Nemu was their newest member, as well as the most desperate. She was very good at what she did considering how modest she normally was. But she was still in college, for God's sake, and she had no family. Her insane father had been admitted to a mental hospital when she was only eight. She'd lived with foster families until she'd gotten old enough to get her own apartment, but still…bills had to be paid.

"Babycakes, you need money, don't hesitate to ask," Kukaku informed her blithely, pulling her cigarette out of her mouth and letting out a good stream of smoke. "We're all in this together." She nudged the quiet girl with her shoulder. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Nemu admitted, blushing. "Thank you."

* * *

Rangiku pushed the door to her spacious apartment open with a sigh, kicking off her high-heeled stilettos by the door. After flicking the lock on the front door, she put her leather purse down on the table and put her black coat next to it before walking into the other room. She pulled up her long hair as she moved, tying it up into a messy pile on top of her head. The TV was on in the main room, showing some game show. She smiled when she saw Orihime watching it with rapt attention.

One of her best friends and her husband had been killed in a car crash almost five years ago. Their daughter, Orihime, had been devastated, especially since she'd had no other family. The kid had been set up for adoption the very next day, but Rangiku didn't feel right letting the poor little thing get taken away like that. So she'd adopted the girl, even though she'd only been around twenty at the time; and she was an incredibly sweet girl too. She was in college now, and she helped with the cooking and cleaning instead of paying rent.

The red-head turned around when she Rangiku come into the room. "Oh, hi, Rangiku!" she gushed cheerfully, immediately turning down the volume on the TV. "Did you have a good day?" She stood up and bounded over to the counter, sitting down at one of the barstools.

"Eh, not bad," Rangiku said, opening the fridge to rummage around for something to drink. She pulled out a beer and slammed the fridge shut with her hip, twisting off the cap of her drink at the same time. "What about you?" She smirked when she saw Orihime blush a little. "Did you ever hear back from that Ichigo guy?"

"Um…maybe," Orihime said quietly, not able to help the goofy smile that crept onto her face.

Rangiku squealed in excitement, hopping up on to the counter and looking down at the younger girl. "You have to tell me everything!" She listened patiently as the young woman explained how Ichigo Kurosaki, her long-time crush and friend from high school, had finally worked up the courage to ask her out. That had been about a week ago. They'd gone on a date last night just to see if things could work out that way between them. The poor girl hadn't been too optimistic, but apparently Ichigo had called her the very next day – during her first class, no less!

"I'm just so excited, Rangiku!" Orihime sighed happily.

"You should be, sweetie," Rangiku said. She was genuinely happy for the young woman. She needed to have a boyfriend. She'd never had one in high school because she'd been too focused on getting into college – one of her late mother's greatest dreams. Now she was watching her dreams come true right before her eyes. Rangiku knew it would work out; it just had to. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," Orihime said shyly. "I made some dinner if you want any!"

"Eh…don't really feel like it tonight," Rangiku said, scrunching her nose up. "Thanks, though." She sat up straighter, stretching; she heard a few vertebrae pop and she winced. "Think I'll go take a nice hot bath."

"Okay!" Orihime said. "I'm gonna finish watching this game show and then get started on my homework!"

Rangiku smiled as she took her beer with her into her bedroom, attached to which was the master bath. It was a nice apartment, she had to admit. She'd worked hard to get where she was today, even if she had to work an industry that was technically illegal. Moving into the bathroom, she turned on the faucets to the large, sunken-in bathtub, stripping out of her black pencil skirt and white button-up shirt. Peeling off her undergarments, she bent down and checked the water's temperature before putting in the drain when satisfied.

She waited until the tub was almost full before turning off the faucet and adding some bubbles to the mix. Stirring the mixture into the water with her hands, she created enough bubbles to satisfy her and then sank down into the hot water, groaning in contentment. Leaning her head back against the little pillow thing at the side, she laid back in peace, letting her eyes slip shut. Today had been an easy day, with no jobs. Tomorrow…she'd really have to get down and dirty.

No child grew up with the aspiration to be a porn star. Come on, what kind of sick wish was that? She hadn't had parents growing up; for as long as she could remember, she'd been an orphan, fending for herself. She'd managed to stay at the orphanage up until high school, when she'd first gotten involved into the pornography industry. She'd only been an up and coming star then, of course, and it had hurt that that was the only way to make money in this twisted world. She hadn't wanted to be a porn star. But she'd been relatively good at what she'd done. She'd managed to buy her own apartment and even work her way up through the company, meeting people like Yoruichi and Kukaku.

When their old company had broken up due to a management disagreement, the three of them had banded together to form their own little agency. Nanao had come along a short time later. And now, about a year ago, Nemu had come to their door, asking if she might be able to get a job. She hadn't had the heart to turn the girl down, seeing as how she was in a similar position as she herself had been at the girl's age.

They all had interesting stories, really. None of them had gone into this business out of a desire to. Yoruichi had been thrown out by her family for going against tradition and not wanting to accept an arranged marriage at sixteen. Kukaku had lived with her brothers until they'd been found brutally murdered in their apartment, in the rather rough districts of Karakura. Nanao…she was in the industry for her own purposes; she had met Rangiku while in high school, and had never really admitted why she was willing to become a porn star.

To be honest, they were probably all capable now of getting other jobs and living perfectly respectable lives. But to do that, they would have to give up everything that they'd been working so hard to achieve. And they didn't know if they'd be able to give up what they'd achieved together. The friendship they all shared – yes, even Nanao and Kukaku were friends despite how they acted towards each other – was so effortless, so special…she didn't want to lose that for the world. She'd had a rough life…no parents, orphanages, the pain of a loved one leaving you without any warning…

She shuddered; those weren't memories that she wanted to relive. She pushed them to be of her mind as she sat up and pulled down her thick hair, actually beginning to wash herself. She'd spent the past five years getting over that; she wasn't ready to delve into those particular memories just yet.

* * *

Nanao clutched her purse even tighter to her body as she walked home to her small apartment on the upper side of town. It was rather cold outside for mid-November weather. Normally it didn't get this cold here until at least January. She looked up as the streetlights started flicking on over her head. It was only about six o'clock; it was ridiculous how early it got dark in the winter months. What idiot had ever come up with Daylight Savings Time, anyway?

She hardened the expression on her face as she saw _that _shop come into view. She had no other choice; she couldn't avoid it, considering that there weren't any routes to her home quicker than this one. It wasn't the shop that she disliked. It was the shopkeeper. He was annoying, persistent, sickeningly charming and…she unfortunately loved every minute of the attention he lavished on her. But she wasn't going to let him know that. He didn't even know her name!

As she passed the outskirts of the shop, she began to hope that perhaps he hadn't seen her tonight. The beginnings of a smile had just formed their way onto her face when she heard _that _voice call out. "Oh, it's you!" She froze and slowly turned around, letting her face turn form a cold glare that would normally send people reeling.

There he was – all six feet, three inches of him. He was dressed in his normal, gaudy outfit. For some reason, he insisted on wearing a traditional, flowery pink haori over his even more traditional black kimono. He insisted that it went with the theme of his shop – that's right, asshole here sold flowers. _Flowers. _ The only man interested in her romantically sold _flowers. _That was just too fucked-up to even think about. He even had long hair – tied back with some ridiculous looking pin. Not to mention his pathetic excuse for a beard.

"What do you want?" she asked coldly.

"Oh, come on now, that's not very nice!" he said in a sing-song voice. "I just wanted to offer you a flower!"

"A flower," she repeated. "You offer me flowers every day, and every day I say no."

"Ever hopeful!" he replied cheerfully.

"Are you on drugs?" she demanded, growing madder by the minute. Couldn't this man see that all she wanted was to get home, take a long hot shower and curl up by her fireplace with a cup of something very, very strong?

He chuckled; perhaps he thought it was a joke. "Of course not!" he proclaimed happily. "You don't need drugs when you're happy as can be!"

…She didn't even know what to say to that particular comment. She turned around and began to leave. "Oh, come on, then!" he said, catching her arm. "Just one little flower!" She jerked her arm away and glared at him. "Oh, fine," he said, sighing. "Maybe some other day."

She snorted and waited until she had turned on the next street corner before muttering, "In your dreams, asshole."

* * *

Nemu slowly let herself into her apartment, setting down her gray jacket by the door and slipping off her tiny black ballet flats. After locking the door - you could never be too careful - she walked into the kitchen and flicked on the lights. She was tired; today had been a long day. Not only had she had to go to several classes, one of which was at eight in the morning, she had found out that she was going to have to do a shoot with Syazel again. It wasn't that he was a bad photographer, or even sleezy...he was just so silent during the shoots. It was creepy. Moving over to the fridge, she pulled out a microwave dinner and popped it in the microwave, pressing the buttons for the right time. She didn't even have time to cook; she was going to be up late doing her homework.

She waited patiently until her food was finished before taking it out of the microwave. She winced when the hot plastic burned her fingers. She almost dropped it onto the counter, waving her fingers in the air rapidly to attempt to cool them down, even though she knew it didn't really help. After hastily peeling off the plastic covering, she grabbed a fork and stuck it into the steaming contents. After waiting another few minutes for it to cool down to the point of being ready for human consumption, she took a bite. Satisfied with it, she moved over to her couch, where her school books and binders were currently littered all over the coffee table.

Grabbing the first assignment she saw - a sheet of problems for her Calculus II class - she opened up the appropriate textbook and picked up a pencil. With a sigh, she got to work on the first problem. She really hated math. It wasn't that she found it difficult or confusing. It was the fact that it reminded her of her father, Mayuri. At one point, he had been a perfectly normal human being, if a bit eccentric. Then he'd gone off and discovered nuclear physics and gotten completely absorbed to the point that it'd driven him insane working out the intense math problems. She had vowed to herself that she'd never do that to herself. But she couldn't help having his genes and being smart; she couldn't help that she had to take these courses in order to pass.

She stopped when she heard a knock at her door. Frowning, she dropped her pencil, swallowed the bit of food in her mouth and moved quietly over to the door. She looked out through the peephole, but couldn't see anything; darn it! She hated it when people stood out of her field of view. What if she didn't want to answer the door? With a bit of resignation, she opened the door. When she saw who it was, though, she opened it wider, smiling. "Uryu!" she said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled at her, sticking his hands into the pockets of his slim-fitting jeans. "Hey," he said quietly. "Well, you'd mentioned that you were having some trouble getting all your assignments finished...I thought maybe...you might want to work on some of them together?" It was only then that she noticed the bag hanging off one of his shoulders. Uryu Ishida was actually a year older than she was, but they were in the same grade at the local university; his father had made him wait a year before entering school, to get some experience in the real world, as Uryu had put it. They'd talked before some, and had exchanged numbers and addresses, but they weren't looking to date or anything like that. It was more of a friendship type thing. Though she couldn't help but notice that he was rather cute, in a nerdy, dorky sort of way.

"Sure!" she said quickly, stepping out of the way to let him inside.

He stepped in, removing his shoes and coat by the door and then following her into the living room. "Sorry it's a mess," she said quietly. "I had to just drop everything off before I went off to work."

"Oh?" he asked interestedly. "Where do you work?"

"Um...just a little store downtown," she said, the lie coming easily through her teeth. She couldn't tell him the truth! What guy on earth would want to be her friend just because they liked her company if they knew she was a porn star?? They'd obviously try to take advantage of her. Well, a guy like Uryu wouldn't...but he wouldn't want to be her friend though. Right? He wasn't the type of guy to like that sort of thing.

"Oh, that's nice," he said. He looked over at her Calculus worksheet. "So what are you working on?"

"Just that assignment from Calculus," she said, sighing. "Have you done it yet?"

"Yeah," he said. "It took a while though. I'm still working on that Physiognomy paper though. Have you finished it?" They were both in school to become doctors; that way, she could at least have something to look forward to after she quit the porno business.

"Actually, yeah," she said, fishing for it through the books. After a moment, she found it and held it up proudly. "You wanna read it?"

"Sure," he said, accepting it from her easily. He read a few paragraphs while she looked at him anxiously. Uryu Ishida was a very intelligent guy. He was at the top of the class and never seemed to find anything up to his standards. She only hoped that he wouldn't find her paper substandard. He frowned and looked up at her. "This is incredible. I've never read anything like it! Are you sure you haven't done anything in medicine before? No working at a lab or anything?"

She smiled in surprise. "No, I'm sure," she said.

"Still...it's really good," he said. "You should be proud of yourself."

"Thanks."

* * *

So...I dunno...should I continue this??


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay...so you guys convinced me. I'll keep on writing this. Plus...it's actually really fun to write, lol. So, thanks again for the reviews for last chapter, and here's chapter two!! Also...there's a scene in this chapter that describes a photo shoot, so if you don't feel comfortable reading it, just skip the first scene. It's not really worthy of being M, but some people not like it. So I figured I'd just go ahead and say that.**

* * *

"Rangiku!" a delighted voice came from behind the front desk. "It's so good to see you again!" A man with jaggedly spiky black hair and dark eyes stood up to greet her, coming out from behind the desk to give her the customary pecks on the cheek. "How ya been?"

"Same as always, Shuu," Rangiku said charmingly, smirking a bit.

"So, you ready for today's shoot?" the man asked, moving over to switch the sign on the door from OPEN to OUT FOR LUNCH – BACK IN 1 HOUR, as well as flip the lock on the door. "I've got a few models set up to work with you today, 's that ok?" He twirled a ring of keys around a finger absently before finding the one he wanted, sticking it in the lock of a nearby door and then twisting. He turned back to look at her as he put the keys back in his pocket.

"Hm, male or female?" she asked, following him into the dimly lit room. Inside the burgundy colored room was a rather sumptuous bed covered in black velvet blankets and blood-red silk pillows. There was a canopy overhead as well, the ties on it loose enough to give it a sensuous feel. There were a few other people running around the room as they got ready for the shoot, lighting aromatic candles all over the place and making last minute wardrobe selections and camera lens replacements.

"Both," he responded, shutting the door and re-locking it behind them. "That okay?"

She shrugged. She didn't mind who she modeled with – it wasn't like there was any emotion at all in these things. Modeling, even as a porn star, was a form of acting. It had to be believable, but you didn't necessarily have to feel anything on the inside. God knew she certainly didn't. "So what kind of thing are you looking for today?"

"Well, obviously, it's a bedroom scene," Shuuhei said, smiling sardonically. "And you're just supposed to act seductive. You'll be on top with the other girl though." He nodded to the rack of clothes away from the set where a few nervous looking people were standing. "I've already got something picked out for you to wear."

"Clothes?" she asked, feigning surprise. He grinned at her mischievously. "Since when have I ever done clothed shoots with you before, Shuu?"

He shrugged. "Felt like doing something different," he answered easily.

Pulling her hair from its loose bindings, she stepped forward and moved over to the rack of clothes. She slipped out of her coat and pushed it into the hands of one of the attendants, giving her purse to another. She winked at that one. "If any of my things are gone when I'm done, you're in for it later," she warned him in her best teacher voice. He gulped and flushed scarlet, holding onto the purse for dear life. "So…am I working with someone new today?" she tossed to Shuuhei over her shoulder as she slowly began to undo the buttons on her simple dark green cotton dress. She could feel the eyes of the attendants glued to her generous cleavage; inwardly, she sighed – did men think of nothing else?

"The girl's not new," he said. She heard a few rapid clicks and assumed that he was testing out the lens on his camera. With all the buttons done, she let the fabric slide down her body, revealing her rather scanty undergarments. She giggled when she saw one of the attendants – the one cradling her purse – gulp nervously. She threw him a charming smile. "The guy is though. But he's a natural, don't worry."

"Mmkay," she said. Looking at the rack, she picked up the one that the attendant pointed to – apparently, her bosom was rendering him incapable of recognizable speech patterns. It was a fancy babydoll negligee – only it was made of mesh, so she might as well as have been wearing nothing. Winking at the attendant, she let her underwear fall down as she put on the new pair. He fainted straight away, and she couldn't help but let out a giggle. The other had to turn away as she took off her bra and put on the top of the outfit.

When she was finished, she walked over to the cosmeticians, who did a quick number on her face, putting makeup on her that made her look outstandingly gorgeous – not to be bragging. It was just an honest assessment. On top of it, they spritzed her face a few times with water to suggest that she was sweaty. Giving her thanks to the women with the makeup brushes, she stood up, shaking her hair around her as usual, and turned around to find herself staring face-to-face with a guy who could only be her partner on the set.

He was ashen-faced, staring at her with an awed expression on her face. He certainly was an interesting looking man, she assessed, smiling at him kindly. He had long red hair and a quite nicely sculpted body, with jagged black tattoos running all down his chest, arms and she suspected elsewhere - his black silk boxers hid everything else. His reddish-brown eyes were wide as they stared at her. "Hello," she said. "Rangiku Matsumoto."

"Uh…" he stuttered, flushing a bit. After clearing his throat and scowling at his own inability to speak in her presence, he tried again. "Renji Abarai."Shuuhei came up just then, throwing an arm around Renji's shoulders and grinning. "See, Renji? What'd I tell you? Best in the business right here – Rangiku Matsumoto."

"Oh, Shuuhei, stop it," Rangiku said coyly.

"It's true," he said, shrugging. Removing his arm from around the taller Abarai, he clapped his hands together once. "Okay, then! You two ready to get started?" Rangiku nodded and went over to the bed, hopping onto to it and immediately getting down on her back. Renji crawled onto the king-sized monstrosity more hesitantly, eying Rangiku nervously. "Now, I've already told you what exactly I want, Renji. Don't worry 'bout Rangiku – she'll follow you perfectly."

Renji nodded firmly once as if he were reassuring himself that he _could _do this. All at once, he snapped into a concentrated mood that immediately had Rangiku appreciative – this guy meant business! He climbed over her, putting his hands on either side of her head; she helped the image of male dominance by putting her tiny hands around his wrists, turning her head to the side and looking up at him coyly. He smirked. They heard a few clicks of the camera, and then moved into the next positions.

He put one of his large hands underneath her back and lifted her up easily, lowering his head until it was close enough that he could lick a long, slow trail up from the valley of her breasts to the hollow at the base of her throat. Oh, he was good. She didn't pity the girl that got this guy for a lover! She threw her head back to show off abandonment, letting her eyes drift shut. "Oh, God, YES!" Shuuhei said emphatically.

They made their way through the movements as easily as if it were a dance. They flowed together in a way that was both insanely erotic and incredibly beautiful. Shuuhei had been right – this kid _was _a natural, the best natural porn star Rangiku had ever seen. He wasn't even hard, for heaven's sake! He was so in control of himself that Rangiku was stunned; now why couldn't she find guys like this one? She found it hard to believe that this one wasn't already taken.

At the end of their little session, they both climbed off the bed, their bodies both sweating merely from the close proximity. "You are both getting _amazing _paychecks from this!" Shuuhei proclaimed happily, flicking back through some of his photos. "There's no way that these won't bring in a fortune!" He looked up happily. "Okay, Rangiku, you ready for round two?"

"Round two?" Renji asked incredulously.

"I have to do another erotic shoot with a girl," Rangiku informed him, smiling.

"Oh, god," Renji said, flushing. "I'm done though, right, Shuuhei?" He'd gradually loosened up during the shoot, Rangiku had noticed. Maybe he didn't think he was going to be able to handle all the cleavage in the room…? She didn't know how Shuuhei did it. Perhaps he was gay.

Shuuhei snickered. "Nah, you can leave, Renji," he said dismissively. "I'll mail your paycheck once I've got these uploaded." He nodded to the attendants and a second girl was brought in – a shorter girl with shoulder-length hair that was similar to the color of Renji's. Her eyes were grayish. She gawked when she first saw Rangiku. Shuuhei looked up and smiled when he saw her. "Hey, Chizuru! This is Rangiku Matsumoto – you're gonna be workin' together today."

* * *

Nanao was currently facing a very, very hard dilemma – currently in the grocery store, aisle seven…did she get the orange juice with the pulp, or the one with extra calcium? She did need all the calcium she could get – she wasn't a big fan of milk, after all. She frowned, staring down at the labels on the otherwise identical bottles of juice. It was an unbelievably tough decision; she didn't think a normal person could've handled it. Oh yes, she was in a very serious situation.

"Orange juice?!" a delighted voice came from behind her. Her eyes wide with shock, Nanao whirled around, still clutching the two bottles in her hands – if need be, she was armed. There he was – that stupid, vile, annoying, irritating shopkeeper that she was hopelessly and unfortunately infatuated with. "I knew we had something in common! Orange juice is delicious! It's especially wonderful with mimosas!" He grinned at her charmingly.

She cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow at him. "We have nothing in common," she reminded him. "Why are you here anyways? Did you follow me in here?" She fixed him with a stern eye. She was slightly surprised to realize that he was wearing normal clothes – as in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, with a green hoodie. His hair was still held back by that ridiculous hair pin though.

"Oh, no, no, our encounter today is pure luck!" he said, waving a hand in a gesture of innocence. "But I am surprised to see you here!"

"…why?"

"Well, you seem like someone who'd be a creature of habit, and I've never seen you here at this time before!" he supplied easily, smiling at her like an idiot.

"And what is wrong with being a creature of habit?" she asked. "What is so abnormal about having a schedule? Or are you one of those people who just goes with the flow?" She narrowed her eyes. "Why am I even talking to you?"

"Oh, don't stop!" he said quickly. "You're enchanting to talk to!"

"…oh, really?" she deadpanned. "Then tell me which is better." She held out the two bottles of orange juice. "Might as well make yourself useful."

He studied the two bottles of orange juice. "I'd definitely go with the calcium-enhanced stuff," he said after a moment. He nodded. "Yep, definitely the calcium. The one with the pulp always get caught in your teeth."

She was surprised at how smart that assessment actually was. Grudgingly, she put the orange juice – with calcium – into the shopping cart, putting the other bottle back onto the shelf. After nodding curtly to the man once, she began to push her cart down the aisle. Next…she looked down at her list…ah yes, she needed eggs now.

"Ah, wait!" he called after her, running to catch up. "You can't just leave yet!"

"Watch me," she said coldly.

"I still don't know your name!" he protested, smiling all the while.

"And you aren't going to find out what it is," she informed him.

"Oh, and why not?" he asked. "I'll tell you mine!"

"I don't want to know yours."

"Shunsui Kyoraku, pleasure's all mine!"

She sighed. Today was going to be a _long _day. And it was only ten in the morning.

* * *

Yoruichi shut the door to her apartment softly. Wincing as she moved (Kisuke was _very _good), she headed into the kitchen where she knew there was at least one phone. She was too tired to go digging around in her purse for her cell. Leaning heavily on the counter, she punched in the numbers on the keypad and put the receiver to her ear. A few moments later, the other end picked up.

"Yeah?" a gruff voice grunted.

"I need you to come over here – now," Yoruichi said, not even bothering to introduce herself.

"Okay…do you need anything?"

"No…just come here as soon as you can," the purple-haired woman said, putting a hand to her head.

"Already on my way to my car."

"'Kay…see ya then." Without waiting for a response, she hung the phone up. Sighing, she moved over across the open living space to the couch, falling face first into the cushions and wrapping her arms around the first pillow she found. She was tired – beyond tired, actually – and she needed someone to talk to. It couldn't be Rangiku – she was busy today. She didn't know Nemu or Nanao well enough to bother them. And after working the red light district, Kukaku wouldn't be in any mood to chat until at least the end of the week. No, now she needed a different friend – her oldest and most trusted friend, the one who would never judge her.

Almost drifting off to sleep while she waited, she was jolted from her daze by the harsh rap at the door. "It's open," she called out, not even bothering to get up. Instantly, the door swung open. She heard a jacket being thrown off and a door shut and locked. And then those feet were rushing over to her side.

"Yoruichi!" came the concerned voice. Yoruichi looked up to see the concerned face of Soi Fon looking down at her. Her gray eyes were worried and her short black hair was mussed from the wind. She was wearing a pair of shorts and a loose tank top, the edges of her sports bra peeking out from underneath – she must've just come from the gym. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Yoruichi said, smiling. She sat up slowly, wincing when her legs came together.

Soi Fon didn't miss the wince. "Why are you wincing?" she asked. The dark-skinned woman smiled sheepishly. "Oh, don't tell me you called me all the way over here to talk about your glorious sex life!" The other woman threw her arms up in the air as Yoruichi giggled. "To think I left training for this!"

"No, that's not it, Soi Fon, really," Yoruichi said, her laughter fading. "I really do need to talk to you."

The slight woman sighed and sat down in a chair across the coffee table. "I'm listening," she said.

"Okay, so you know that in my line of work, we don't really look for relationships and families and all of that jazz," Yoruichi started, propping her chin up on her hand. Soi Fon was her only non-work colleague/friend that knew about her job. "Well, recently I've begun to do shoots for this one guy more and more, and now it seems like he's the only person I work for."

"How recent is recently?"

"…okay, about six months now," Yoruichi admitted; she didn't know why she lied to the other. Soi Fon could read her like an open book any day, though she might not always say it. "So, at first it was a totally normal, boss-worker thing. And then we started flirting."

"And now I'm guessing you've moved on to fucking?" That was Soi Fon for you – painfully blunt sometimes.

"Precisely," Yoruichi said, beaming. "But for some reason, I'm not happy. I should be happy…I don't really do relationships, and I'm getting good sex. I have a job that pays a lot of money, I have a nice apartment, nice clothes and a nice car. Why am I not happy?" She asked the last question more to herself than to her friend.

"…do you…like this guy as more than just a friend or a boss?"

"I don't know," Yoruichi admitted. "I don't think so. I'd know if I had feelings for him, wouldn't I?"

"Not necessarily," Soi Fon said uneasily.

"How would I not know?" Yoruichi demanded, frowning.

Soi Fon sighed. "I don't know, Yoruichi, you know I'm not really into the whole relationship thing," she said quietly. "But…haven't you ever read any books, watched any TV?" Yoruichi just looked at her blankly. She rolled her eyes and continued. "What if you _do _like this guy as more than just a friend, but you're mistaking it for something else?"

"Something else," Yoruichi repeated. "Something like…lust?"

"Maybe," Soi Fon said, shrugging.

Yoruichi considered the idea for a moment. After a few moments though, she couldn't help but laugh. Soi Fon just stared at her quizzically. "You honestly think I might like Kisuke?" she asked, still giggling hysterically.

"Look, if all you're gonna do is laugh at my suggestions, then I'm heading back to the gym," Soi Fon said. "I should still be there. I've got a big competition coming up this weekend, and I need to focus on it."

Yoruichi nodded. Soi Fon competed in triathlons. She was one of the best in Japan, and was heading overseas to compete in an international competition this weekend. Yoruichi knew that it was a testament to how strong their friendship was that Soi Fon was willing to stop during a training session to come talk to her – no matter how small the issue was. "Alright, you can go," she said. "Thanks for listening to me."

Soi Fon couldn't help but smile as she picked her up jacket. She'd been friends with Yoruichi ever since they were young, even though she was several years younger than the dark-skinned beauty. Yoruichi had once remarked that she felt like a big sister to the smaller, skinny woman. But it was times like these that made Soi Fon think that perhaps _she _was the big sister. Getting her keys out of her pocket, she opened the door a bit. "Well, call me back if you need to talk some more, or have second thoughts," she said quietly.

"Will do," Yoruichi said, grinning. After that, Soi Fon exited the apartment building, heading back out to her little silver car. The smile instantly dropped off Yoruichi's face and the laughter faded. She sighed heavily and dropped back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling. She might have been able to fool Soi Fon for a moment, but she knew that had the other woman stayed, she wouldn't have remained clueless for long.

She didn't love Kisuke. She couldn't love a man after only knowing him for six months. But…what did she feel for him? She honestly didn't know. And why wasn't she happy, dammit? She had everything a girl could ever dream for – okay, maybe the job wasn't the best, but she'd never been a prude and she was careful enough to know she'd never get caught. She could just shake it off as a phase that would eventually pass…but she honestly didn't know if that was the case.

Flipping over onto her side, she curled up a bit and closed her eyes. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to think about anything at all – she just wanted to close her eyes and get some much-needed sleep.

* * *

Late that night, Rangiku arrived home to hear more than one voice in her living room. Frowning slightly, she took off her coat and hung it up by the door, kicking off her kitten-heeled shoes as well. Putting her arms underneath her ample chest, she made her way into the kitchen to see who was there. Obviously, one of the people was Orihime; she was sitting on the couch clad in a pair of bright pink pajamas with little ice cream cones on them. There were two other girls there as well.

One of them looked to be very short with shoulder-length black hair and surprisingly large blue-violet eyes. Rangiku supposed that she was cute; she was dressed in light blue pajamas with rabbits on them. The other girl also had black hair, but it was rather short and spiky; her eyes were brown, and they snapped to Rangiku the moment the blonde stepped into the room. Soon, Orihime's gray eyes and the other girl's blue eyes followed suit.

"Oh, Rangiku!" Orihime said, standing up and smiling brightly. "These are my two best friends!" She pointed to the blue-eyed girl. "This is Rukia Kuchiki." Her finger moved to the other. "And this is Tatsuki Arisawa. Do you remember her?"

Rangiku smiled lightly; she did remember Tatsuki. The girl had been the only thing that stopped Orihime from going off the deep end when her parents had been killed. She was boyish, stubborn and apparently one of the strongest girls in Japan. The other girl – Rukia – she didn't know, but had heard of in conversations with her talkative charge. She vaguely wondered why the two were here, but then she remembered that she'd said Orihime could have her friends over any time she wanted as long as they didn't make too much noise and cleaned up any messes they made.

"Kuchiki?" she repeated, staring at the girl in the blue pajamas. "As in Byakuya Kuchiki?"

The girl nodded, smirking a bit. "I get that a lot," she said. "I'm his adopted sister."

"Adopted?"

"My older sister was his wife before she died," Rukia explained.

Rangiku nodded in understanding. There was no one in the city who didn't know who Byakuya Kuchiki was. He was only the most powerful lawyer in Japan. God only knew why he'd chosen to live in Karakura when he easily could've lived in Tokyo or one of the other big cities. He was rumored to have never lost a case, as well as being called a stone cold heartbreaker with his model-esque looks. This girl didn't appear – or act, from what Rangiku had heard – like him personality wise.

"Um, so I guess it's kinda a little late to ask," Orihime started, flushing, "but could they spend the night tonight? We've all got a big biology exam tomorrow that we need to study for."

"Orihime, I told you it was no problem," Rangiku said, smiling at the other girl's eagerness. "Just keep the noise level to a minimum and don't make a mess. That's the only two rules in my house." She winked at the other girls before heading over to the kitchen area to check and see if there were any missed messages.

"Oh, yeah, Rangiku!" Orihime said, noticing where Rangiku was headed. "Your one friend called earlier! What was her name again…?" She put a finger to her chin as she tried to remember the name. "It wasn't Miss Yoruichi…and it wasn't Miss Nanao either…oh, I remember now! It was Miss Kukaku!" She frowned. "I don't know why she called though. I didn't hear the message." Rangiku couldn't help but find it cute how Orihime called all adults that she wasn't familiar with by their proper titles; apparently, it was something she'd picked up from her parents. Or maybe it was her older brother. Rangiku really wasn't sure.

But why would Kukaku be calling her? Tonight was the other woman's night to work the Red Light District…she wouldn't be sober for a week. Frowning slightly, she picked up the phone from the receiver and pressed the button on the answering machine for the messages. After flipping through the random messages she got, she stopped when she heard Kukaku's voice enter the machine – sure enough, it was slightly slurred from drinking.

"Hehe, hey, Rangiku…this is Kukaku. So…funny story…I'm currently sitting in a cell in the Karakura Jail…" The message went on, but Rangiku didn't hear it. She'd dropped the phone in shock. Her mouth was hanging open, and she was pretty sure there was an absolutely horrified expression on her face. In JAIL?!? What…the fuck…had happened?

"Rangiku?" Orihime asked innocently, looking over in surprise. "Is something wrong?"

That snapped Rangiku right out of her daze. Shaking her head, she instantly ran over to the counter where she'd dropped her purse. In her frenzy, she ended up spilling half the contents out onto the counter before she found what she was looking for – the map of the city that she kept in her purse at all times.

"Rangiku, what's the matter?" Orihime asked, starting to sound worried now. "What's wrong?"

After locating where the Karakura Jail was, Rangiku stuffed the map back in her purse and grabbed everything that had fallen out, shoving those in as well; she could reorganize later. She ran to the door, slipping on a pair of flats and getting into her coat as quickly as possible. "Rangiku!" Orihime cried, coming over to stand in the hallway. Rangiku looked up just as she was ready to open the door. "What's going on?"

"I-I have to go," Rangiku said breathlessly. She didn't have time for this! "Look, I'll be back later, okay? I just have to go now!" She flung the door open immediately. "Stay out of trouble! And lock the door behind me!" she cried over her shoulder as she raced down the outer hallway towards the elevator.

Orihime did as she was told, dazedly moving forward to shut and lock the door. When she turned around, she saw both Tatsuki and Rukia staring at her with confused looks on her face. She put on her brave face and smiled at them. "Oh…don't worry about her! She'll be back…later."

Tatsuki blinked and then shook her head. "I don't even wanna know," she said. "Let's just get back to studying." Rukia nodded in agreement and the two of them headed back towards the living room. Orihime followed a minute later, fighting the feeling of worry that was surfacing in her chest. Whatever it was…she just hoped that nothing was wrong.

* * *

**Lol, total cliffie, I know. But...care to tell me how I did? Review!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Well, here's the next chapter!! Thanks again for all the awesome reviews!! And I'm sorry it's taken a while for this to get out. Having to write a million papers this week basically sapped my writing muse, haha. But it's back!!**

**And to everyone reading this, Happy Thanksgiving!! Unless, of course you're not American. Because then...you wouldn't be celebrating Thanksgiving, would you?  
**

* * *

Roughly a half an hour after Rangiku received the message that Kukaku was in jail, she arrived at said location. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her clothes were all twisted around from running down to the parking garage at the apartment complex and her feet were killing her – running in ballet flats? Not a good idea.

Grabbing her purse, she steeled herself before walking into the main room. There was a police officer manning the desk and two more standing by the entrance to a back hallway. A round table stood off to the side, old newspapers and magazines littered on its surface. In one of the chairs scattered around it, a very large man was sitting, his black t-shirt bulging from the muscles beneath it. He had longer black hair with almost predatory features. She smiled at him briefly before turning her attention to the officer behind the desk.

"Excuse me," she said quietly. The officer looked up – then down at her chest – and gave her a winning smile. If she hadn't had to deal with him, she would've rolled her eyes at the gesture. "I just got a call from one of my friends – she said that she had been taken here. Um, is there anything specific I need to do to get her out?"

"What's your friend's name, miss?"

"Kukaku," Rangiku said quickly, "Kukaku Shiba."

"Hmm," the officer said, pulling up a file on his computer. "Yep, she's here alright. Just give me a few minutes and we'll see to getting her out. It's just going to be a fine this time, but the next time she gets brought in, it'll be three days and a fine. After that, the punishments only increase."

She nodded in understanding. Just as she was about to turn away, she paused. "Um, not to be rude, but what exactly did she get brought in for?" she asked hesitantly.

The officer standing near the back wall snorted. "Bar brawl," were the only words he said.

Rangiku sighed, but went over to the table and sat down across from the man. Placing a hand against her forehead, she took out her cell phone and sent a quick text message to Yoruichi; she'd called their other best friend on her way over to the jail to explain the situation. She'd promised to keep the other updated.

"You friends with Kukaku Shiba?" a rough voice suddenly grunted.

Rangiku looked up. The man across from her was staring down at her, his eyes interested. "Yes, I know her," she responded. "I'm one of her best friends."

The man snorted. "Seems like a handful to me," he said. "Course, everyone at the bar seemed to like her." Rangiku, who had just been ready to give him a piece of her mind and tell him to shove off, that she really _wasn't _in the mood, paused to listen. "At least until she started throwing glasses at everyone and cursin' like a sailor."

"You were at the bar?"

"Who do you think restrained her?" the man asked, smirking. "These guys sure ain't much help. Apparently she was too much for them." He chuckled darkly. "I'm just waitin' to see if she's sobered up a bit."

She stared at the man, appraising him. Just who was this man, and why was he speaking like he knew Kukaku? It was possible, she supposed. Kukaku wasn't really particular when it came to choosing her one-night stand partners, but she tended to go for the rough, rugged men like this one. But where most men Rangiku had seen her with had been stupid – albeit good specimens physically – and generally either drunk or stoned beyond belief, this man actually seemed intelligent, calculating even. Not to mention he was incredibly intimidating.

"Who're you?" she asked.

He grinned at her. "Kenpachi Zaraki," he replied easily. "The bouncer at Club Crymsin. And you are?"

"Rangiku Matsumoto," she said after a moment or two of silence; she supposed Kukaku hadn't had sex with him. It didn't sound like he was suggesting that, anyways. "Was she too terribly drunk?" she asked after a brief awkward lull in the conversation.

"Just enough to get her riled up," Zaraki said, shrugging indifferently. "Though I gotta say, she's pretty damn beautiful when she's angry. Like some wild animal or something."

Rangiku snorted. "That doesn't seem like something a guy like you would say," she admitted.

"And what am I supposed to say?"

"That she's got a hot body with huge boobs and a great ass," she informed him easily. She looked down at her fingertips, tapping nervously across the table surface; irritated, she made herself stop. "Something along those lines."

"Eh?" the man grunted. "I thought women liked it when men looked at more than their bodies."

"We do," she confirmed. "But most men are too hormone-crazed to go beyond the fact."

He didn't say anything to that, so silence fell between them. A few minutes later, the police officer at the desk stood up and went through the door to the hallway, another officer following him. She figured that they were probably going to get Kukaku now. The other guard answered the telephone when it rang.

"What was she doin' in Club Crymsin, anyway?" the large man suddenly asked. Rangiku turned to look at him sharply. "Don't seem like the kind of place she'd go to, with her nice clothes and that bike she drives. Walked into the place like she damn well owned it."

"That's really none of your business."

"Tch, sure, whatever," he said, grinning a bit. "Don't tell me the truth." They both turned their heads a bit when they heard footsteps and voices drawing closer. His eyes flicked back to her. "But I'll figure it out eventually."

She frowned and stood up, shrugging her purse back onto her shoulder and walking over to the desk. A few seconds later, a rather harassed looking Kukaku shouldered her way through the entrance to the main room, glaring at the guards. "I can walk perfectly fine on my own, goddammit!" she yelled at them. "I'm not a fuckin' invalid!" Brushing off her shoulders, she pushed her way through the barrier that separated the two sides of the room and went to stand by Rangiku. "Thanks for comin' to get me," she muttered under her breath.

"No problem," Rangiku sighed. She looked at the guard who was once again seated at the desk. "How much do I owe you?"

"Twenty thousand yen," the guard informed her. Rangiku turned to glare at Kukaku – who smiled sheepishly at her and chuckled nervously – before ripping out her checkbook and quickly writing out a check. She threw it at the guard – who caught it, rather startled – and then grabbed her black-haired friend by the arm. "That's so coming out of your paycheck."

* * *

Rangiku slammed the door open and pushed Kukaku inside her apartment, closing the door behind her. She didn't even wait for the other woman to follow her. She just kicked off her shoes, set down her purse and coat and marched off into the kitchen. Yanking the refrigerator door open, she pulled out a beer and instantly popped off the cap, taking a long swig of it. She set it down on the counter and pulled up a barstool, glaring across the room at the dark-haired woman. "Do you have any idea how mad I am at you?" she asked.

Kukaku sighed, walking forward and nervously taking a seat across from the blonde. "Look, Rangiku, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"You never mean to get in trouble!" Rangiku cried, trying to keep her voice down as much as possible so that she wouldn't disturb Orihime and her friends, who'd long since retired to the girl's room. "But you always do! That's your problem!"

"Well, I didn't!" Kukaku snapped sullenly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I made a fuckin' mistake, Rangiku, I know that! God, don't rub the fact in my face!"

"What happened?"

"I…I just…" she broke with a sigh. "I just got out of control, okay?" She put her head in her hands, looking down at the gray stone countertops instead of at Rangiku. "I wasn't even that drunk. Some idiot just came up and started callin' me dirty names and tryin' to get me to shag him. I wasn't interested and told him to back off but he just kept on comin' and I just…lost it." She trailed off in a dejected tone of voice.

Rangiku felt for her friend; she really did. She understood what it was like when men only wanted you for your body, and were willing to treat you any way they could to get you riled up. Kukaku was stronger than most women, hell most _men, _she knew, but she was only human; and everyone felt horrible when someone talked to them like that. "Sweetie," she said in a much softer tone of voice.

"Don't do that!" Kukaku said suddenly, raising her head to glare at Rangiku. The blonde looked at her questioningly. "Don't do that pitying thing that you always do! I don't want your pity! I want your help."

"Help?"

"I can't do this anymore," Kukaku said, shaking her head. "This entire business is ruinin' my life. It's all I've ever known and I'm sick of it. I don't like bein' treated like property or a dog. I'm a person, for God's sake! I want to be treated like a person."

"So are you…quitting?" Rangiku asked.

Kukaku sighed. "I can't quit, Rangiku," she said. "I need the money, and I'm not qualified enough to do anything else other than workin' as a waitress or something. I just don't wanna feel like this anymore." She looked up, and her large teal eyes were incredibly sad. Rangiku just continued to listen; Kukaku didn't open up like this much. She wasn't about to stop the other woman when she might be having a breakthrough. "But I have to get outta this. I hafta do something.

"This isn't the life I want," she continued. "God, I always wanted a husband 'n kids that I could spoil rotten." She sighed wistfully. "When you're a fuckin' porn star, no one looks at you that way. Tch, good thing no one knows about that then, right?" She shook her head. When Rangiku still didn't answer, she looked over at her friend and smirked. "This is the part where you offer that wonderful advice, you know."

Rangiku couldn't help but smirk at that. There was that Kukaku she knew and loved. "You could always enroll in a college part-time," she suggested. "Get a degree. Keep working with us until you've graduated and gotten another job. Then you can leave this behind, if that's what you really want."

"Shit, I don't wanna leave you guys!" the dark-haired woman said quickly. "That's not what I meant!"

"I know, silly," the blonde said, giggling. "But you don't have to. Just because we wouldn't be working together doesn't mean we couldn't still be friends. We'll always be friends."

"You think?"

Rangiku snorted. "Honey, I know."

* * *

Nemu anxiously picked up the stack of papers littered on her coffee table. She looked around desperately for her term paper for her physics class. She'd finished it several weeks before the due date and was quite proud of it. But she couldn't find it anywhere! And if she couldn't find it, she couldn't turn it in! And she couldn't turn it in…she'd fail the class and have to retake it next semester. Whimpering nervously, she swept all the cushions off the couch, searching anywhere and everywhere for the paper.

She jumped when her cell phone started ringing, and almost shrieked, she was so jittery. She flipped the phone open, not even checking the number. "Hello?" she asked.

Her nerves must've been easy to detect because the voice that answered her sounded a bit concerned. "Nemu?" the voice asked anxiously. "This is Uryu. Is everything alright? You sound a bit…frantic."

"Oh, it's nothing," she gushed. "I just can't seem to find my term paper for my physics class!" She chuckled nervously. "And I've looked everywhere, but I just can't seem to find it, and I'm just so worried that I won't find it! And I can't fail the class or else I'll be on academic probation and they'll take my scholarship away! And then I'll have to stay a p-" She stopped, shocked that she'd come so close to revealing her greatest secret. She couldn't let him know about that! He'd never speak to her again, let alone want to be her friend.

"Do you want me to come over and help you look?" he offered kindly.

"You don't have to do that," she said quickly. "I'm sure you've got other things to do today."

"Actually, no, I don't," he said slowly.

"Still, you don't have to help me search around for a paper that I've probably just left in my backpack on accident!" she said, trying to give off the impression that she wasn't in a frenzy.

"Couldn't you just print off another copy?" he asked.

"I…um, actually I don't have a computer," she said, flushing in embarrassment. "I worked on it at the library and then printed it off there. I still have my notes and everything, but it would take me hours to write it all out again." She plopped down on a chair miserably, looking over the strewn papers to see if she'd just overlooked it.

"I'm coming over there," he said definitively. "Now."

"Oh, no, really you don't have-" She pulled the phone away from her ear when she realized he'd hung up on her. She supposed she should have been a little peeved at that, but she couldn't find the will to. She was too worried about other, more important things. While she waited for Uryu to arrive, she scoured over the rest of the living room. She was just moving into the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

She quickly went over to answer it. "Hello," she said, smiling wearily at Uryu when she opened the door. He smiled back and stepped inside, removing his shoes and coat at the door.

"Have you managed to find it yet?" he asked.

"No," she said miserably, shutting the door and following him into the living room. "I've searched all over the living room and I was just getting ready to head into the kitchen when you got here."

"The kitchen?" he asked, turning around to blink at her in confusion. "Why would it be in the kitchen?"

"Eh, well, sometimes I do my assignments at the counter," she explained. "And I leave some of my classwork in a stack over by the stove."

"Oh, I see," he said. "Well, why don't you keep searching here and I'll go and look in the bedroom? Unless you're uncomfortable with that?" He looked over at her questioningly.

"Oh, no, that's fine," she said. "Honestly, it's great that you're even here to help. You don't know how much this means to me." She gave him a winning smile.

"It's nothing," he said easily before slipping off down the hallway to search in the bedroom. After he'd left, she moved over to the stack of papers by the stove, shifting through them carefully to make sure she didn't overlook anything. It was a rather large stack, she had to admit. Just as she was about ready to give up in frustration, she noticed one rather thick paper that was sticking out near the bottom.

Frowning, she gave that paper a tug and looked at it. She couldn't believe it. Here it was! That stupid thirty page term paper she'd been forced to write on quarks! She sighed in relief, hugging it to her chest. She really needed to get a computer. Remembering that Uryu was still in the bedroom looking for the paper, she turned around and moved down the hallway, going to tell him the good news.

She stopped right as she went through the doorway. He was standing there holding a stack of pictures in his hands, mixed in with a few odd pieces of paper. "Uryu, look, I found it!" she said happily. "It was in that stack…by the…fridge," she trailed off, quickly growing more and more horrified when she realized what Uryu was holding in his hands. Oh, good Lord. She'd left those pictures out on the bedside table, hadn't she? He looked up at her, confused.

"Nemu?" he asked, confused, holding up the picture he was looking at. She blushed scarlet when she saw it; it was one of her from her latest photo shoot with Syazel. She was completely naked, holding a sheet up as if she'd just been caught in the act of doing something dirty.

"Oh, my god," she said weakly.

"I don't understand," he said quietly, shaking his head. "Is…is this you?"

She nodded, not able to answer with words.

"But what are you doing?" he asked. "It's…it's not the normal type of picture, is it?"

"It's just work," she mumbled, growing more and more miserable by the moment, her previous elation disappearing. She was just waiting for him to march out in disgust and proclaim how much he never wanted to see her again.

"Work?" he repeated in disbelief. "You said you worked at a store downtown."

"Well…not exactly," she admitted.

"Then what do you work as if you're not a salesgirl?"

She sighed, turning away as she felt tears begin form in her eyes at the impending rejection. She'd gotten used to rejection over the years, considering how she'd been basically rejected by anyone she would've been friends with in high school. No one wanted to be friends with the daughter of "Captain Freakshow" as they called her dad. But that didn't keep it from hurting every single time.

"…a pornography model."

* * *

**I feel bad for Nemu at the end. That would be one of the most awkward things imaginable. Also, I wanted to say that just because the girls have had rotten luck with men in their life, I'm not trying to bash all men in any way. I happen to know some very nice ones that would never do anything like that. I promise, I have no desire to go around plotting the demise of men, lol!! And also, Kenpachi's hair is like it was before he became a Soul Reaper. That means no eye patch either. I just personally think he looks better without the spikes and bells. **

**Review? Please? It would make me veeeery happy!!  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello everybody!!**

**I know it's been a while since I last updated this. But I've had a lot going on. My grandfather passed away and I've had a ton of end of the semester projects to do. But now that's all over with and I'm so excited!! So I thought I'd go ahead and update this. And to make up for the lack of Nanao in the last chapter, this one is almost completely Nanao, with a bit of extra stuff through in there, lol.**

**As always, thanks for all the reviews!!

* * *

**

Nanao stared down at her calendar in disbelief. No…no, there was just no way. She shook her head and then looked up at the year near the top of the page. Shit – the year was right. Frowning, she looked back down at the date. No, there was no getting out of it. She sighed. Today was her cousin Lisa's birthday. Every year for her birthday, Nanao would always try to send her flowers, since the other woman liked them. This time last year, she had lived on the other side of town in a completely different neighborhood; there had been a nice little flower shop over there that she'd gone to. But now, of course, the only close florist happened to belong to that infuriating man.

But what was she going to do, really? She couldn't just not send Lisa flowers. The woman didn't particularly care for chocolate since she was always "watching her figure" and she didn't like schmaltzy things like lotion, body spray or fancy soap. With a heavy sigh, she walked over to the door, grabbed her coat and her purse before slipping on her shoes and heading out the door. She didn't _want_ to go and visit that man. She just didn't have any other option.

As she stepped out of her building and out into the cold winter air, she went over plans in her head. She knew exactly the type of flowers Lisa liked – big, colorful and nice-smelling. She was also partial to more foreign flowers. She would just have to speed through the store, finding the ones she wanted, and then place her order as quickly as possible, giving that insufferable man Lisa's address. She didn't plan on spending more than ten minutes in that place.

She paused when she rounded the corner, looking down the street. She could just make out the edge of the green shop. Steeling herself, she marched purposefully down the sidewalk, hands fisted in her pockets. When she reached the front door, she pushed it open purposefully. A little bell chimed, and she winced inwardly. Great – as if it wasn't bad enough that she had to step into this shop, she had to have attention drawn to herself. Looking around, it didn't help her annoyance when she discovered that there were no other customers in the shop at this point.

But there was a stroke of luck! She didn't see that man anywhere around at this point. She ducked behind a fragrant display of roses of all colors so that she wasn't in view of the front counter. She sighed in relief when she didn't hear any footsteps.

"Who're you hiding from?"

She jumped when she heard the voice whispered in her ear. Whirling around, she accidentally bumped into the front of the display, knocking petals all over herself. That man – Kyoraku – was just staring at her, a half amused, half surprised look on his face. She glared at him and pulled herself away from the display, brushing off stray petals. "What the hell was that for?" she demanded.

He blinked. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said, smiling apologetically. "I was just wondering why you were hiding behind a display case."

"To get away from you," she huffed.

"Then why did you come in here?" he asked, frowning now.

"I need flowers," she snapped. "Why else would I come in here?"

"For the pleasure of my company," he said airily, smiling winningly. She felt her heart flip inside her chest at his charming smile, but didn't let her face show it. In fact, she showed the opposite by scowling at him. He sighed when he saw her expression. "Alright then, since you're here for flowers, what may I help you with?"

"I need flowers for my cousin's birthday," she said quickly. "Something big, colorful and fragrant that's not too expensive. And foreign."

"Hmmm…" he said. "You could always just go with roses."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm her cousin, not her lover," she said scathingly.

He shrugged and then moved down the display, looking at the flowers and trying to come up with something she might like. "Ah!" he said, stepping forward. She stepped back to watch him as he pulled several bright pink and purple flowers out of the display. He turned around and walked over to another display, taking a bunch of some other, smaller white flowers. He then moved over behind the counter, putting them in a pretty spun-glass vase and wrapping a filmy ribbon around it. She had to admit – the arrangement was far better than anything she could've done.

She stepped up to the counter. He was beaming at his creation, making a few last-minute touch-ups to it. "What kind of flowers are those?" she asked.

He smiled at her. "It's a secret," he said. "But here, smell them. Aren't they lovely?"

Hesitantly, she leaned down and smelled the flowers. She was stunned. They were so fragrant. And it was such a good smell too! Not too romantic or heady likes roses but not overly woody like some flowers. It was delicate and fresh. She took in another whiff, letting her lungs completely fill up before she pulled away with a light sigh.

"Oooooh, you like them!" Kyoraku said gleefully, smiling at her charmingly.

"They're…they're not bad," she admitted. She then reached down into her purse, pulling out her wallet. "How much do I owe you?" He pressed a few buttons on the cash register. He then gave her the price and she pulled out her card, following the instructions on the pinpad. It wasn't actually too bad. She had expected the flowers to be much more expensive.

"Now, where am I having my little helpers deliver this?" he asked, leaning down on the counter. He pushed over a little card and a pen. She easily took it and wrote down Lisa's name and address as well as a little message that wished her cousin a happy birthday. When she was finished, she pushed the card back to the man. "Alright," he said. "I'll get this delivered in an hour or two. Do you want a receipt?"

"Yes," she said. She was glad he'd reminded her; she'd almost forgotten to ask for one.

She blinked when he pulled on the piece of paper and then frowned at it. Was something wrong? He looked up at her, and she froze. There it was – that radiant smile that she'd only ever seen him wear. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nanao," he said quietly. She blinked at him. "Your name…it's Nanao Ise."

"Yes, it is," she said, holding out her hand for the receipt. When he just stood there, staring at her stupidly, she frowned. "Can I have the receipt please? I do have other things to do today." But nothing important, her mind told her. She told it to shut up.

"Oh, yes, sorry," he said, handing her the receipt. She took the infernal piece of paper and stuffed it into her purse before giving him a tight-lipped thank you and walking out the door. He didn't try to stop her. She waited until she had turned the next street corner before allowing herself to smile. She pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle a slight giggle. That man…he was so…silly! There was just no other word for it. When she got back to her apartment, she was still chuckling to herself.

* * *

Nemu just stood there, not quite able to bring herself to meet his eyes. She kept waiting for him to say something rude and scathing, to push past her and walk out in disgust. But there was just silence. She couldn't stop the few tears that started seeping from her eyes, falling down her face in hot, wet trails. She pressed a hand to her mouth and chanced a glance up at Uryu's face. He was just staring at her, clearly stunned. There was no other emotion on his face.

She turned around and ran out of the room, not able to take that horrible silence any more. She fell onto the couch, drawing her knees in close to her chest, and burying her face in her arms. Why, why, _why _had she chosen today of all days to forget to put away the pictures?! Normally she put them away in her closet, in a spot where no one would ever find them. So why hadn't she done that with the newest ones? She was furious with herself, yet too mortified to do anything at the moment.

She jumped when she felt a hand placed on her shoulder comfortingly, and looked up in surprise. Uryu was standing there, just smiling at her gently. That, she couldn't take. The screaming, the name-calling, the disgusted looks…she'd mentally prepared herself for that. But a comforting gesture and a smile…? She wasn't ready for that. So she burst into tears instead, reburying her face in her arms.

"Nemu," he said softly. "What's wrong?" She heard him walk around the back of the couch and sit down beside her. He reached out to put a hand on her back, but when she just shuddered at the touch, he pulled away, clearly unsure of what to do.

She shook her head. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she managed to choke out.

"Would you prefer it if I were being mean to you?" he asked, confused.

"That's what everyone else does," she said sadly. She raised her head, her large green eyes filled with tears. "No one was supposed to find out about this. No one!" She wiped at her eyes to try and stem the flow, but it didn't work. "And now you don't want to be around me because you know I have such a horrible, perverted job. You hate me."

"Nemu, I could never hate you just because you were forced into getting a less than decent job," he said, smiling at her. She blinked. How did he know that? "You're not the type of person to willingly become a…a pornography model." He flushed a little when he said that. She didn't miss it, and felt all the worse inside because of it. "But I do have to admit…I wasn't expecting it." He ran a hand through his hair.

There was silence for a few minutes. She pulled herself together and wiped the tears off her face. When she felt calm enough to talk about it, she did so. "I didn't want the job," she said quietly. He turned his calm blue gaze back to her. "But…you've heard of my dad. He left me with nothing. I had to find some kind of a job, and I needed one that paid well. But most people didn't want to hire me because they all knew about how crazy he was." She sniffed; this was a painful topic for her to talk about so openly. "I guess they thought I was crazy too."

She was surprised when he clenched his leg furiously. The look on his face was angry. "That's ridiculous," he said coldly. "No one would hire you because your father had to be locked away in an asylum, and so you were forced to work for the pornography industry?" He shook his head angrily. "It's no wonder this world is going down the drain. It's so corrupt I'm almost nonchalant about seeing it destroy itself."

"I don't mind," she said quietly. He looked at her incredulously. She flushed. "Well, it's not exactly the best job, but no one's ever tried to take advantage of me. And I've never had to do a shoot I didn't agree to. And my colleagues are all very nice. They treat me almost like a daughter."

"But what if someone _does_ try to take advantage of you?" he demanded. "What will you do then?"

"I…" she trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Exactly," he said with a sigh. He looked around then. "Do you have a phone?"

"Yes," she said, confused. "It's in the kitchen. Why?"

"Would you mind if I ordered a pizza?" he asked, standing up. "I'm starving, I'm sure you haven't eaten all day, and I don't feel like leaving you alone at the moment. Don't worry, I'll pay for it." He turned around to look at her.

"Sure," she said nervously.

About an hour later, they had eaten their fill, the empty pizza box lying on the coffee table. All of her books and homework had ended up on the floor, shoved over next to the wall. They'd talked a bit more over dinner, and she'd gradually realized that he'd accepted her, and not rejected her, however much he might disapprove of her job. He understood the fact that she didn't have many other options. But there was still one thing that she didn't get.

"Uryu," she said quietly, not wanting to make the other mad. "Can I ask you something?"

He turned his head to look at her. "Of course," he said easily.

"Earlier…you mentioned people trying to take advantage of me," she said quietly. He nodded to show that he did indeed remember. "Please, don't take this the wrong way…but-"

"Why shouldn't I take advantage of you?" he guessed. She flushed scarlet, but nodded anyways. He sighed. "Do I seem like that kind of person to you?"

"No!" she said quickly, biting her lower lip in fear that he'd taken things the wrong way. "But…I mean…well, if someone had just learned you were a pornography model, and they were of the opposite sex, wouldn't you feel a little uncomfortable?" She picked at the bottom thread of her shirt, not quite being able to bring herself to meet his eyes. "It's not that I don't trust you, Uryu…I just have to get myself used to the idea that you know, I suppose."

"Nemu," he said softly. She looked up at him. He was smiling faintly. "I would never try and hurt you. And I know this has to be hard for you. I just want to make it as easy as possible. We don't have to talk about it unless you want to. And I won't tell anyone else either. If you want, I can try to forget what I saw in the bedroom. I don't know if I _could, _but I could try, and I would definitely never mention it to you again."

She blinked. "What do you mean, you don't know if you could forget it?" she asked.

"Well, it was a bit of a shock," he explained, shrugging. "Shocks tend to stick out in a person's mind." She supposed that was true. "And besides, Nemu…you are very beautiful. Considering the fact that males are more visually-oriented than females, images tend to stick out more in our minds." She flushed at that.

"I'm not beautiful," she said, lightly disagreeing with him.

"I beg to differ," he said. He stood up then, grabbing the empty pizza box. "Well, I should be going now. It's getting late, and I'm sure you have other things to do." He threw the box into the trash can. "Unless you need me to help with something else?"

"Oh, no, you've probably wasted enough time over here already," she said, standing up. She walked him to the door, wanting him to leave and yet not wanting him to leave at the same time. Was that even possible? He pulled on his coat and slipped into his shoes before turning around to look at her.

He smiled at her gently. "Well, today has certainly been interesting," he admitted.

She couldn't help but smile back – his grin was just infectious. "You could say that again," she said. On a more serious note, she added, "But thank you, Uryu…for coming over to help me find the paper…and for…understanding."

"Anytime," he said easily.

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither exactly sure of what to do or say. They both opened their mouths to say something, but both closed them when they realized the other was going to say something. And then they laughed nervously like a couple of teenagers on their awkward first date. "This is rather embarrassing," Uryu said with a chuckle.

"A bit," Nemu said. Finally, she gathered her courage and stepped forward, giving him a brief hug. He seemed a bit surprised by the motion at first, but his arms soon found their way around her back. They were long, though – they completely wrapped around to her front. He was warm too, and smelled nice – it wasn't really cologne…it just a clean, nice smell, like soap. The hug lasted longer than both of them intended it to. It just felt…right. When they finally did break apart, Nemu looked up at him with a flush. "Ah…sorry about that."

"Oh, no, it's fine," he said quickly, a light tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. "Well…I guess I'll be going now." She nodded and he left then, closing the door behind him. As soon as he had left, she let herself weakly fall against the back of the door. Her heart was racing – so fast, making her breath come in shallow gasps. Why was she feeling this way? All from a hug? She'd admit that she didn't really have any experience in the relationship department. But still…a hug was just a hug. Kukaku gave her lung-crushing hugs all the time, but she didn't feel this way after them. Then again, she wasn't even remotely interested in Kukaku that way. Or any other woman, to be honest.

She let herself slide to the floor, leaning her head to the back of the door. It was just a hug. Uryu didn't like her that way. There was no reason to get her hopes up. If, of course, what was she really feeling was a…a crush. God, she hated that word. It sounded so immature and childish. And the very name of the feeling – _crush _– wasn't exactly promising. She sighed lightly and let her eyes slip shut. She needed to talk to someone. But who was there to call? She didn't really know anyone her age…

Her eyes fell open when she realized that there was someone she _could _call, if she really wanted. There was this one girl in her social studies class – the stupid one she'd been forced into taking for more credits – that had always been nice to her. They'd even gone out to get lunch together a few times. She had her phone number. And she did seem nice…perhaps she'd be willing to meet sometime and talk about it?

She wasn't really sure. Was she willing to go out and trust this person? She didn't think they'd judge her…it wasn't really in the other's character to do something like that. Gulping nervously, she stood up and walked over to her purse, pulling out her small, silver cell phone. With slightly trembling fingers, she moved to her address book and scowled through the names until she found the one she was looking for. Crossing her fingers behind her back, she pressed the little green button and held the phone up to her ear.

It rang once, and then again. And then someone picked up. "Hello?"

"Orihime?" she asked, slightly breathless. "It's me, Nemu. Can I talk to you for a second?"

* * *

Rangiku sighed and let go of the stirrer she'd been swirling around in her drink for the past several minutes. Her dinner companion made no notice of the soft noise. Instead, Nanao was just staring stupidly down her napkin with a dumb smile on her face as she traced patterns into the silky fabric. "Alright, Nanao," the blonde woman said, leaning back in her seat. "You have _got _to tell me what the hell is wrong with you tonight."

The other woman looked up, slightly surprised. "There's nothing wrong with me, Rangiku," she said, sounding confused.

"You've been staring at your napkin for the past five minutes with a completely idiotic grin on your face," Rangiku said, smirking. Nanao blushed. "So…spill."

"It's nothing, really," Nanao said quickly. "Well, maybe there is something. I just don't know what! I shouldn't be feeling this way, not really, he's a complete idiot-" She stopped mid-sentence when Rangiku squealed excitedly and leaned forward across the table, threatening to make her breasts fall out of her slinky red dress. But she paid that no heed.

"A _guy_?!" she breathed out, wide-eyed. "Nanao Ise's interested in a man?!?"

"I…I don't know," the dark-haired woman said, not even able to bring herself to be annoyed at her friend for that comment. "He's a complete idiot, not to mention a complete and utter hopeless romantic…but I can't stop thinking about him."

"Okay, you have got to give me more details, sweetie," Rangiku said. "I'm dying here!" Just then, the waiter came back and asked them if they were ready to order yet. The blonde didn't glance at him as she waved her hand at him. "Come back in a few minutes, toots." The waiter paused for a moment before mumbling out a "sure" and walking away.

Nanao sighed, but went ahead and started talking, figuring that she wasn't going to get out of this anytime soon. "Alright, alright," she said. "His name is Shunsui Kyoraku. He's a florist. He owns that little shop near my apartment. You know the one?" Rangiku nodded impatiently and motioned for her to get on with it. "Well…every day after I would come home from work, he'd always try and offer me a flower. And he's been trying to get my name for weeks now."

"Aww…" Rangiku sighed. "How old is he?"

Nanao blinked. "I'm…I'm not sure," she said. "Thirty, maybe?" She shook her head. "I've never asked."

"So, why are wearing this completely shit-eating grin?" the blonde pressed. "What happened today?"

"Well, I needed to have some flowers delivered to my cousin, Lisa," Nanao explained. "You remember her, I'm sure." Lisa and Rangiku didn't really like each other. Nanao suspected that that was because she thought Lisa secretly wanted to be Rangiku. The blonde was everything she wasn't, after all. "So I had to go in to his shop to place the order because it's the only florist nearby. So I did…and he was actually very helpful and made this gorgeous bouquet to send to her. But after he rang my card through and my name popped up on the screen, his whole face lit up and he smiled like it was the most beautiful thing in the world."

"Oh…my…god…" Rangiku breathed out. Nanao stared at her quizzically. "You've got to go out with him, Nanao! He is so head-over-heels in love with you!"

"But he doesn't even know me," the dark-haired woman protested.

"Well, go out with him and let him get to know you!" the other said. "You'll never know what he's like if you don't give him a chance! But besides that…why is that making you grin like this?"

"I…well…I suppose he's handsome, in a more rugged kind of way," she said, flushing a bit. "And it is nice to know that someone cares." Rangiku made a motion that pressed her to continue. "And sometimes afterwards I get this weird feeling in my stomach. I suppose he just makes me feel…giddy."

"Damn, girl, you've got it bad too," Rangiku said, sighing.

"I don't love him!" Nanao burst out, making several other people turn to stare at their table. She flushed slightly. In a much lower tone of voice, she added, "I do not love him."

"Not yet, you don't," the blonde snickered. "Look sweetie, I'm an expert in the matters of love. You don't love him yet, but I can tell that you will. I honestly and seriously think this might be the one guy that could make you happy. You need to talk to him, and tell him how you feel."

"You think so?"

"I do."

"…maybe I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"You'd better. Don't make me go all Queen Bitch Nazi on your ass."

"…oh yes, heaven forbid."

* * *

**So, now that you're done reading, I have a little question to ask you. I have been considering for a while now whether or not to change the story to M and include things like lemons. But if no one wants to read that, I won't write it. So, if you will, drop a review and tell me:**

**A - Sure, change the rating and make sexy time!!**

**B - No, it doesn't really need to be there**

**C - Don't care**

**D - This story should already be M, haha**

**You don't have to answer if you don't want to, but it would really help me out if you did!! Thanks to everyone for reading!!  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again!!**

**Sorry for the lateness of this update. But it's been Christmas and then New Year's and a lot of things have happened. So I feel that that works as a little bit of an excuse, however bad it might be, haha. So anyways!! Thanks to everyone who reviewed for last chapter and helped me decide what to do about where this fic is going!! I didn't get any reviews saying that they DIDN'T want lemons, and most said that they wanted lemons or felt it was up to me to decide. So, there will be lemons, and this fic is going to move up to an M rating. I'm going to go ahead and change it to M even though there are no lemons in this chapter, since several people thought it should be M anyways, haha. **

**Also, there were a few questions about the fic in general so I'll just answer them here. First of all, in this fic, being a pornography model DOES mean that the girls do photoshoots as well as videos. I described one photoshoot - although that was relatively tame compared to what real-life pornography models actually do - but I am NOT going to describe a video, just because, well, I think everyone knows what they do there and I don't really feel like describing it, haha. Also, part of what the girls do is also a form of stripping/poledancing, so when Kukaku went to the bar in the Red Light District, that's basically what she was doing. Kukaku is really the only one who does that on a regular basis because she has the least amount of modesty (not to be mean, I just think that's probably the truth) and also probably cares the least about what people think of her. She might have a one-stand stand with someone if she wants, but she does not consider herself to be a prostitute. Also, all of the girls will be in a pairing at some point!! It's obvious - at least I think so, but then again I AM the writer - who most of them are going to be with, and I think that after reading this chapter, any other confusion will be cleared up.**

**So, that's over with. Thanks again for the reviews!!  
**

* * *

Based solely upon her personality, most people could tell that Kukaku Shiba was not a morning person. She liked her sleep and did not like to be rudely awakened by the phone ringing. So, naturally, when her cell phone started blaring at about eleven on a Saturday morning, she let out a stream of curses that would make a sailor wince. Blearily opening her eyes, she raised a hand and groped around on the nightstand until she found the annoyingly loud, vibrating device. She punched the proper button and then held it up to her ear, letting her eyes slide shut again.

"What the hell do you want?" she grunted.

"Tch, that ain't a proper greeting," a rough, male voice said in a rather apathetic voice.

"It's fuckin' early on a fuckin' Saturday morning and you're tryin' to reason with me?" she demanded. "Who the hell is this, anyway?"

"Kenpachi Zaraki, work at that club you got arrested at last week," the man said, his voice not changing a bit in tone or emotion. "Think ya left something here 'cause it sure as hell ain't mine. Black leather jacket, couple holes near the bottom. Sound familiar?"

"How'd you get my phone number?" she asked, ignoring his question.

He snorted. "Ever heard of a fuckin' phone book?"

"Shut up," she snapped. "How'd you know it was my jacket?"

"Well, if the name written on the tag wasn't obvious enough, ya left a note in the pocket from someone named Yoruichi," was the smirked response. No, she couldn't see him, but she was almost positive that he was smirking. She chose to ignore his little jibe.

"Since it's so obvious, why don't you just shut the fuck up and drop it off?" She really didn't want to have to get up and have to go get her jacket. But she had a feeling that this guy wasn't going to honor her request and bring her jacket to her.

"Sorry, babe, I'm busy today," he said, chuckling a bit.

She felt a vein pop out on her forehead. "BABE?!?" she demanded angrily. "Let's just get one thing straight, pal, I am NOT and WILL NEVER BE your BABE!! Ya got that?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He sounded completely nonplussed, the bastard! Did he not even have the decency to apologize? "Listen, I'm going out in a few minutes to run some errands, but I'm gonna leave the back door open for ya. Come get your jacket if you want, but if it's still there by the time I'm back, don't think I'll be deliverin' it to ya."

She opened her mouth to say something smart back to him only to realize that he'd hung up on her. "Bastard," she muttered under her breath. Slamming her phone down onto the table so hard that she was lucky it didn't break, she crawled out from under her multitude of blankets and made her way over to the pile of clothes lying underneath the window. She shrugged something on, not even checking to see if it matched before making her way outside and speeding off on her motorcycle.

She was not in a good mood, to say the least. When she pulled up to the bar, she was only barely able to keep herself from throwing the bike to the ground. Instead, she just slammed her foot down against the kickstand and stalked over to the door. Like that bastard had said, the door was open. She walked inside and found herself in a small back hallway. Her scowl deepened; not only had that fucking moron made her come all the way here to get her jacket, but he hadn't even left it out in plain sight?! What the hell?!

Stomping towards the nearest door she found, she bashed it open and looked around. It looked like a small bedroom. What, did the guy live at this club or something? Geez, get an apartment already. But it didn't look like her jacket was there. So she retreated back into the hallway and tried the next door. This time it was a bathroom. Obviously, it wasn't in there. The next doors that she found seemed to be a kitchen, office and then a random room full of stuff in boxes. And her jacket was nowhere to be found.

Letting out a vexed sigh, she went back out into the hallway. To her surprise, she realized that there was a cork bulletin board right across from her. There were a few random pieces of paper tacked up there, mainly things related to the bar. But near the bottom of the board was a small note hastily written on what looked like a large post-it note. Frowning, she leaned closer and read the note. Her eyes narrowed to the point of being slits; she could feel her blood boiling.

"I'm going to fuckin' kill him!"

* * *

She couldn't believe she was doing this. She could not believe she was doing this! It was insane, illogical and everything else that she wasn't. And yet…it was early on a Saturday morning and Nanao Ise found herself standing in front of a flower shop. And it wasn't just any flower shop. No, it was _his _flower shop. She supposed that she should stop referring to him as _him _and start using his full name; she did know it, after all. She sighed; maybe later.

Gathering herself, she walked into the store and looked around. To her relief, no one else was there, and he was just sitting behind the counter, filling out what appeared to be some kind of form. He looked up when she entered and smiled broadly. "You're back!" he said, almost victoriously.

She blinked. "What, were you waiting or something?" she asked sarcastically.

"Oh, every day," he said, his smile widening. Her eyes narrowed a bit, but he just continued smiling at her. Apparently, he hadn't caught on that she had been sarcastic. Sighing lightly, she walked over to the counter. There was a real purpose in her coming here, after all. Who would go here just for fun? She couldn't even fathom someone doing that.

"I wanted to thank you, for the flowers you sent to my cousin," she ground out. "She called me and said they were the best flowers she'd even gotten."

"I didn't do anything!" he said, winking at her. "You paid for it."

"That's beside the point," she huffed. "You made the arrangement."

"It's my job!" he pointed out.

"Whatever," she said, breaking off into silence. She looked away for a moment. She heard the slow scratching of his pen resume again. He wasn't looking at her, and wasn't pressuring her to do anything. She supposed that she could leave if she wanted to. But the conversation she'd had over dinner with Rangiku a few nights ago just wouldn't get out of her head. Why was this guy so interested in her, when no man ever had been before? Well, that wasn't precisely true. She'd been involved with other men, of course, but she'd never really liked any of them before. And she'd always been the unsatisfied one who'd finished things. And no man had ever showered her with attention like _hi-_Kyoraku. God, she really had to start using his real name!

"Why do you care so much?" she blurted out, staring at him.

He looked up at her, a slightly startled look on his face. "Come again?"

"Why do you always go out of your way to get to know me?" she asked, rephrasing the question a bit. "What's so special about me? I've never seen you treat another customer this way. Why do you go out of your way to get to know me?"

He set his pen down and was silent for a moment. When he answered her questions, he did so with an almost sad smile on his face. "I've never met someone quite like you," he responded quietly. "You seem so sure of yourself, so confident…and yet…you always come across as being incredibly sad to me."

She blinked. "Sad?" she repeated. She wasn't denying or confirming it.

He nodded. "Sad," he affirmed. "You don't seem happy to me. But you also seem like you don't want anyone else to know about it." He shrugged. "I guess I just want to make you happy."

"Why?" she asked blankly. "You don't know me."

"I have a hunch," he told her conspiratorially.

"…a hunch?" she prompted when he fell silent.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Call me crazy if you want, but I have this hunch that if someone were to make you happy, you'd have the most beautiful smile in the world." He smiled at her again, that charming smile of his that made her heart beat faster. "I like seeing people smile. I haven't been able to make you smile yet, but I think I might be able to someday."

After he was finished talking, she could do nothing but stare at him for a moment. And when she was able to speak again, the words that came from her mouth wasn't what she was expecting. "You have made me smile."

"Really?" he asked, excited now. "When?" He sighed when she didn't answer. "Well, either way, I didn't get to see it. So my goal is to make you smile sometime when you're around me!" He flashed her a brilliant smile.

"How are you going to do that if you don't know when you'll see me next?" she asked.

He shrugged. "These things have a way of working out for the best," he informed her cheerfully. "I have no doubt that we'll meet again!"

"Why?" she asked. "I could move away from here tomorrow and you'd never see me again."

"Don't you believe in fate?" he asked incredulously.

"Fate?" she scoffed. "Of course not."

"Oh, well, that's a pity," he said, sighing. "I do."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me," she said. The words were scathing, but the tone itself was neutral. Perhaps she was losing her wish to argue with this hopelessly happy man. "But if fate and things like it exist, why has my life been so miserable?"

"Perhaps it was just preparing you for something else," he said gently.

"Something else?" she repeated.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger," he said, nodding.

"…maybe."

* * *

When Kukaku returned to her apartment, there was a black leather jacket waiting on her doorstep. Furious, she snatched the stupid article of clothing up and stomped back into her flat, slamming the door shut behind her. She couldn't believe the arrogance of that man! First he made her come all the way to the other side of town to pick up her jacket because he just _couldn't _come over, then he decided he _could, _and made her look like an idiot!

Still fuming, she grabbed her phone and searched through the recent calls for his number. Without thinking, she just pressed the call button and held the phone up to her ear. It figured that after a few rings she got an answering machine. But she wasn't about to just let him off. No, she would leave him a message that he would never forget.

"What the hell are you tryin' to pull here?!" she demanded. "First, you make me get out of bed and come to your sorry-ass club to pick up my fuckin' jacket because you're too fuckin' busy to drop it off! And then you go and fuckin' decide that you're not too fuckin' busy so you all do if leave a shitty note tellin' me you're gonna stop by my place!?! How the fuck did you even know my address?! Oh, right, the fuckin' phonebook! Get a fuckin' life, pal!"

And with that, she ended the message, threw the phone against the wall – where it promptly shattered into a thousand tiny pieces – and then proceeded to head into the bathroom and rip all of her clothes off to take a nice, long bath.

* * *

Rangiku pulled out the key to her apartment rather slowly. She was tired, and it had been a long day. First, she'd had to spend the entire morning talking with Yoruichi about why the other woman was feeling so depressed lately. The blonde knew what was wrong with the other woman – she'd let herself become infatuated with Urahara – but the darker woman was still completely oblivious. Then she'd had to go shoot a few movies with some grabby male model who thought he'd get some – which he most certainly hadn't – and then…she'd had to go grocery shopping.

Now, Rangiku loved to shop. But she liked shopping for things like clothes, jewelry, makeup, and that sort of thing. Food? Not so much. She'd had to leave most of her stuff in the car, but she figured she'd get Orihime to help her bring everything else up. She tended to buy food in bulk so she didn't have to go shopping so much. She felt sorry for her poor car, the way she stuffed things in it.

After walking inside and softly kicking the door shut behind her, the first thing that struck her attention was the fact that there were several voices coming from the living room – and at least one of them was male. Now this wasn't a big surprise. Orihime did have male friends after all, and she'd brought them over before to study. Rangiku certainly didn't mind; the girl was very responsible about things like that. Now about other things…let's just say the girl didn't always have a firm grasp on reality. Rangiku had spent more hours than she'd like to admit scraping burnt food off the inside of the oven.

When she entered the kitchen – conveniently connected to the living area with no walls in between – there was almost instant quiet. She set the brown bag in her arms down on the counter and let out a sigh of relief. After that, she decided to see just who was over here. Orihime was sitting on one loveseat with an orange-haired young man that Rangiku assumed was Ichigo. Across from them was Rukia, along with…_Renji?! _She blinked in surprise, but didn't anything just yet. Everyone looked slightly surprised to see her, but the red-head's eyes were huge, and he looked like he'd just been told he was a superhero – completely dumbstruck.

"Hi!" she said brightly, smiling winningly at the four of them.

"Hello!" Orihime said cheerfully, winning back her composure. "Oh, I hope you don't mind, but me and Rukia brought Ichigo and Renji home to study with us."

The blonde edged her way out from behind the counter, smiling. "I don't mind one bit!" she said happily. "But I do need some help getting the rest of the groceries from my car. Hmm…Renji, was it? You look strong – mind helping me out here?"

The red-head gulped nervously, but stood up anyway. "N-no, not at all," he said shakily.

"We'll be back in a minute or two," Rangiku said charmingly, leading the back outside to her car. The young man didn't speak to her until they were in the elevator. And even then, she had to give him a prompt first. "So…you're Rukia's boyfriend," she mused.

"Yeah," he said weakly.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but –"

"What's a street rat like me doin' with someone like her?" he finished for her. She blinked, but nodded. He chuckled nervously. "Don't know that myself sometimes. We were friends before she got adopted by Kuchiki. Practically lived by ourselves in the lower district."

She nodded; she had suspected that about him. Most people in the pornography industry – or at least, most of those she associated with - tended to come from the poorer parts of town, or at least families with troubled backgrounds. "Does she know?"

"…no," he said.

She sighed. "I didn't think so," she said. It wasn't good to keep a secret from one's lover, but she knew what it was like. You didn't want them to find out that what you did for money was so scandalous, so trashy, so _vulgar, _because you were afraid they'd hate you for it. She hadn't told _him _what she'd done, and she'd paid for it. But she didn't want to go there right now. "Are you ever going to?"

"Are you kiddin' me?" he demanded, as they stepped out of the elevator. "She'd hate me!"

"Don't you think she'd hate you even more for keeping a secret like that from her?" she asked, walking over to her small car and popping the trunk. She handed him two large bags and then took the remaining bag for herself before shutting the car's trunk and locking it.

"Yeah…but how the hell are ya supposed to talk 'bout something like that?" he asked. "I…I don't wanna lose her." As they stepped back into the elevator, he shot her a scared look. "You ain't gonna tell her, are ya? Please, Miss Rangiku, don't tell her! I'll don't know how-"

"Oh, quit that," she said, smirking over at him. "I'm not going to tell her anything. I know you're a good kid, Renji. You'll do it someday." The elevator dinged and then the doors opened as they reached her floor. "I know you will, because it's pretty obvious you love her." She frowned. "And don't call me 'Miss'! It makes me feel old!"

"Yeah, I do love her," he said quietly. He waited for a moment, before venturing out to ask, "Does Orihime know?"

Rangiku paused as she pulled the key out of her purse. "No," she said finally. "I don't want her to worry about it. I'm not going to be able to stay in the business myself for a whole lot longer. Once you hit thirty, you're practically out of the industry. Unless of course you go into management." She sighed.

"Then why…" He stopped, apparently feeling like he was intruding.

"Why what?"

"Why…why d'ya talk like ya know what it's like? …losin' someone because ya didn't tell them," he clarified.

She smiled at him sadly as she stuck the key into the door. "Because I have lost someone that way," she said quietly. "And it hurts. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." She turned the lock and opened the door. "Just don't let it happen to you." That was her final warning.

_Gin…

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_**I'm actually quite happy with this chapter. I like the way it turned out. I'd been planning it for a while now, and I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to get the emotions across right because I've obviously never been in a position like that before, haha, but I think I did an okay job. Also, the bags Rangiku used for groceries aren't like the little plastic bags at Wal-mart. They're the older, big brown paper bags that people stuff full to bursting and then look astounded when they break open on the sidewalk. Yeah, those, haha.**

**Review if you want the update to come faster than it did last time!! Haha, I'm just kidding, you don't have to review - although it DOES give authors incentive to update more quickly!!  
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	6. Chapter 6

**Oh, wow, look who actually decided to get off her lazy ass and get things done? If you guessed me, you're right!! Haha, I really have no excuse for it being so late this time. I really don't. Well, I guess I got a little bit of writer's block...but it went away and I still didn't write so that's out too. This seems to happen to me a lot. Anyways, here's chapter six!!

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Yoruichi gently put her glass of tea back on the table. She'd been invited by Kisuke to stay behind after one of their sessions for dinner. Apparently, he wanted to…talk. She wasn't sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, but she couldn't just say no. She leaned down, putting an elbow on the table to prop her chin up. "So…what did you want to talk about?" she asked.

He looked down at her for a moment in silence before pulling that silly fan he always carried around with him out of his sleeve, snapping it open to hide the lower half of his face. "I wanted to ask you a few questions," he said. "We've worked together for a while now. Isn't it fair that I know a few things about you?"

"I suppose," she said, letting a small smile creep onto her face. "What in _particular _did you want to talk about?"

He sighed. "Well, I guess I'll just go right ahead and say it," he said, almost reluctantly. "You don't seem like the normal type of girl to work in this industry. Most of the women I use are young, have no money and came from the poorer districts of town. You are obviously none of those things."

"Hey," she said, frowning a bit. She smacked him lightly across the back of the head. "I am too young."

"Oh, yes, of course," he said, quickly fixing his mistake with a charming smile. "I just meant you're not sixteen or seventeen."

"That's true," she said with a sigh. She looked up at him through her dark eyelashes. "And so you're asking me what?"

He snapped the fan shut and set it down gently on the table before leaning down so that their faces were mere inches apart. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" he whispered, his gray eyes unreadable.

She stiffened almost involuntarily and drew back a little bit. That was a very personal question. Of her closest friends, only Rangiku and Kukaku knew _all _the details of why she had chosen this life. Nanao and Nemu knew the basic facts, but that was leaving out a lot of crucial information. Did she really dare tell Kisuke now? A man she'd only known for a matter of months? She wasn't sure whether or not she trusted him, despite the fact that she did feel some kind of connection with him. "Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't, really," he said, smirking a bit. "But I'd like to know just the same."

"Alright," she said slowly. "But you have to answer something for me first." She smiled. "What is _this _to you?"

"This?" he repeated blankly, blinking.

"Our current…relationship," she clarified, leaning forward again. "I want to know how you see it." She absently twirled a strand of her purplish hair around one of her fingers. "I want to know exactly what this means to you."

"Are you asking whether or not I sleep with all of my clients?" he asked deviously.

"I already know the answer to that," she retorted. "I just want to know why you care so much. Why you're always requesting me for jobs, why you never let any of your assistants photograph me. And I want to know why our sex is more than just sex."

"Is it?" he asked softly.

"If you feel half of what I do, then I guarantee you it isn't just sex," she said nonchalantly. She didn't mind telling him this. She had never been a prude, and she certainly didn't have any problems voicing her exact opinions on matters. "So, answer the question."

"Maybe it's because your different from anyone else I've ever worked with," he said slowly, "but it seems to me that you could do so much better than this industry."

She blinked. "You didn't answer the question at all," she said.

"But didn't I?"

She paused for a moment, considering his words. "Do you think I should quit?" she asked him slowly.

"I think you should do what you need to do to make you happy."

She sighed. She hadn't wanted another ambiguous answer, but that seemed to be Kisuke's forte. "I didn't come into this industry because I wanted to," she said bluntly. "Though, come to think of it, I don't know many who did. I was forced into it because I had no money and no friends in the outside world."

"The outside world?" he interjected.

She looked up at him. "I was born Yoruichi Shihouin, of the noble family I'm sure you know about." As she let that knowledge sink in, she looked down and took another sip of tea. When she looked back up at his face, it wasn't as stunned as she had thought it would be, but then again, he had that fan in front of his face again. And his eyes had always been unreadable. "In fact, I was more than just one of the family. I was in line to be the next head of the family."

"Then why did you leave?"

"I didn't leave," she said. "I was disowned."

"Disowned?" he repeated. "What could you have done that was so bad it got you kicked out?"

She waited a moment before answering, until she was sure that was completely composed. This was still a hard topic for her to discuss, after all. "There were a few members of my family – only low ranking members, no one in the inner circle – that were looked down upon because their bloodline was not as pure as ours. I had overheard that they were going to be disowned as well; the evidence that had justified everything was written down on several bundles of papers in my father's office."

"You destroyed them?" he guessed.

She smiled and nodded. "My family was furious," she said. "But more than just that…afterwards, I began to act more and more rebellious, against all of their precious family traditions and rules. I protected the lesser members from the strong. And for that, I was deemed dangerous, and I was disowned. It was more or less after I told my father that I had no intentions of going to a prestigious all girls' university, and working until my fingers bled every night to be at the top of my class as he had."

"Yet you still use their name," he mused.

"It's the only thing that sounds good," she said, shrugging. She looked up at him. "Afterwards, I met Rangiku – who was already in the industry – and she took me in. We started working together, and when she formed her own little group, I was the first to join."

"And now you work for me," he finished, snapping his fan shut.

"Yes," she said simply. After a few moments of silence, she sighed. "I can't believe I told you that."

He smiled charmingly at her. "What?" he asked innocently. "I'm a trustworthy person!"

She snorted. "Says the man who runs a porno shop under cover of a candy store."

He made a face. "You wound me," he said in a theatrical voice.

"It's not fatal."

"True enough," he said, shrugging. He looked at her for a minute before speaking again. "Tell you what. How about you go out to dinner with me tonight?"

She froze where she was sitting and stared at him. He'd never asked her out to dinner before, though she'd eaten over here lots of times before. Recovering her composure swiftly, she smiled. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

He blinked. "I believe I am."

"No sex?" she asked, feigning surprise.

"Not if you don't want to," he said. Well, shit. She had been expecting him to say that that was part of the bargain. The fact that he just wanted to treat her to dinner just added to the confusion she felt about her feelings for this man.

"I don't have any nice clothes with me."

"We can stop by your apartment if you want," he said.

"Okay," she said after a moment. He stood up and then helped her up. She grabbed her coat and pulled it on, walking towards the door. "But you're totally paying."

* * *

Nanao stared down at the phone in front of her. She could do this. She could completely and totally do this. It wasn't like she had to figure out to how to dismantle a bomb or anything. This was simple, an easy task. She already had the phone number clutched in one of her hands. All she had to do was pick up the phone, dial the number and then say a few words. She knew it was easy…and yet why was it so hard?

Sighing, she sat down on a nearby chair and put the number on the table. This would be so much easier if she were drunk. But then she had no idea what she'd say, and she wasn't willing to do that to herself just yet; she still had her dignity. After another moment of indecision, she snatched the phone up and dialed the number before she could talk herself into not doing it. As soon as she heard it ringing, she sighed and leaned back in the chair.

"Hello?" a cheerful voice answered.

She froze up immediately. It was relatively late at night, and she was calling on a home phone. What if he thought she was a stalker? Oh my God, this was horrible! She'd made a huge mistake! Just as she was about to slam the phone back down though, something in her made her go on. "Um, yes," she said quietly, clearing her throat. "Is this Shunsui Kyoraku? The man who owns the flower shop?" She would've told him the address, but she was too nervous to even remember it.

"Yeeeees, it is!" he said happily. "Is this a late notice for a delivery?"

"Not really," she said flatly.

"Oh." He paused. "Well, then, was there something you needed? Who is this, by the way?"

"…it's me...Nanao," she said quietly.

"Nanao!" he cried joyously. She had to jerk the phone back a little from her ear, he was so loud. She frowned at the object, as if by giving it a glare it would somehow send him the message. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Sure," she said.

"Is there something you needed?" he asked. She couldn't help but smile when she heard how inordinately pleased he sounded. And all from a simple phone call, no less.

"I wanted to tell you something, actually," she said, looking down at her skirt. Well, here it was – now or never.

"What?"

"You told me the other day, when I came to the store, that what didn't kill you makes you stronger," she said. She paused for a moment, and then continued. "Well, it's been almost half a year now that you've been trying to get to know me. And you obviously haven't killed me yet, so I can only deduce that you're going to somehow make me stronger."

"And how's that?"

She steeled herself. "I'm going to let you get closer to me, since it's what you obviously want," she said, rushing the words together so fast that she was half-afraid he wouldn't be able to tell what she was saying. "I'm giving up. I'm not running away from you anymore."

"And what do you mean by that?" he asked after a moment's pause.

"Take it however you want."

She heard a lengthy intake of breath on the other end. "I get it now!" he exclaimed. "You want me to take you out on a date, but you want me to be the one to ask!" Not in so many words, but yes, that was about right; besides, she was horribly old-fashioned – she would never ask a guy out, no matter how sure she was of his answer.

"Alright then," he said. "Are you free Friday night?"

She thought about it for a moment. "I think so," she murmured.

"Then how would you like to go out to dinner with me?" he asked. "And then afterwards perhaps go and see a movie?"

"That would be…nice," she admitted.

"Perfect!" he said. "It's settled!"

She didn't really know how to respond to that, so she just sat there, hoping he'd say something else. "Well, I'll let you go then," she said finally, after he didn't say anything either. "Good night."

"Wait," he said, just as she was about to take the phone away. "I know I may seem like an idiot sometimes, Nanao, but…I really do like you. And when you called me just now, it made me really happy."

"…no problem," she said, unable to muster up anything worthwhile.

"I'll call you back tomorrow and we can hammer out the details."

"Sure."

"Good night, then."

She hung up the phone quietly and waited a moment before sighing and letting herself fall back into the chair. Her heart was hammering in her chest and she was sweating lightly. Goodness gracious – it was just a guy! And to think that he was doing this to her just from a phone call? She sighed – she really needed to get out more.

* * *

"So, Nemu, what did you want to talk about?" Orihime asked, sitting down across from her new friend. The dark-haired girl was fiddling anxiously with the cup of tea the red-head had given her, staring down at the liquid as if it would tell her something.

"I…well, it's kind of a…guy problem," she said, flushing a bit. "And I don't really have anyone to talk to about it…" She looked up, worried. "I'm not bothering you with this, am I?" Her green eyes were anxious.

"Oh, no, not at all!" Orihime said quickly. She smiled. "A guy problem, huh? Anyone I know?"

Nemu's flush deepened, because Orihime did indeed know him. He was one of her good friends, as well as one of the best friends of her boyfriend, Ichigo. She nodded. But she couldn't quite bring herself to tell the truth.

"Ooh, I know him?" Orihime asked excitedly. "I bet it's Chad! No, wait, he's already dating someone. Let's see here." She frowned in deep thought, her face all scrunched up. A few moments later, it brightened again, and she looked up with a radiant expression. "I know now! It's Uryu, isn't it?"

Nemu nodded again.

"Oh, that's just so cute!" the red-head squealed. "You two are perfect for each other since you're both so smart and everything! Has he asked you out yet? Or are you already dating? Really, Nemu, you have to tell me these things!"

"Ah, no, we're not…not dating," Nemu said, finally forcing herself to speak. "We're just friends."

"Oh?"

"But…but I think I might like him…in a different kind of way. You know?"

"What's it feel like when you're around him?" Orihime asked, leaning forward conspiratorially. Nemu blinked. "Does it feel all warm and suffocating? But in a good kind of way, I mean! Not suffocating as in you're dying!" She giggled. "That would be bad!"

"Kind of," Nemu said slowly. "I don't really know how to describe it, but I guess warm would be a good start." She paused. "He hugged me the other day. I…I didn't want to let go." She flushed as she announced her confession.

"I think you like him, Nemu," the red-head said, smiling broadly. She squealed in excitement again. "This is just so cool!" She gasped as she realized something. "Oh my heck, I just realized something! Ichigo and Uryu are really good friends!" She suddenly reached out and grabbed Nemu's forearm. The dark-haired girl jumped slightly at the contact. "Do you want me to ask him to find out whether or not he likes you?"

"I, um…I don't know. Do I?"

"Of course you do!" Orihime suddenly bounded off the couch, smacking a fist into an open palm. "We're going to get you two together, no matter what! You need someone like Uryu in your life, and he needs a girlfriend! I've been saying that since we were in high school!" She whirled around and grabbed Nemu once again, this time pulling her off her couch the down the hall into the bedroom. Nemu just barely managed to set down her glass of tea before it spilled all over the pristine white carpet.

Eventually, Nemu was let go once they arrived in Orihime's bedroom, which could only be described as pink and girly. She sat down numbly on a bed as she watched the other girl dig through her purse until she found a cell phone. The device firmly in her hand, she scrambled over to the bed and sat down next to Nemu, flipping open the screen and heading to the address book. "I'm so glad you came over to talk to me about this, Nemu," she said.

"Why?" Nemu asked blankly.

Orihime looked up at her, surprised. "Because now we get to spend more together than ever!" she said happily. "You're going to go out with Uryu, so now we can have triple dates with Renji and Rukia! And big study parties too!" She giggled. "We can even have sleepovers and group vacations! Doesn't that sound like fun?"

Nemu blinked. To be honest…it actually did sound like fun. She'd never really had time for fun before because she'd always been so focused on school and work. Maybe it was time she let her hair down, so to speak, and made some friends and had fun. Orihime was still beaming up at her. Slowly, she let her own mouth form into a tiny smile.

"Yeah…it does sound fun."

* * *

Rangiku sighed as she came back home after a long day. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged out of her coat before heading into the kitchen, heading straight for the freezer. There was only one way to ease a girl's problems after a long day – ice cream. She pulled a tub out of the freezer and didn't even bother finding a bowl. She just grabbed a spoon and started digging in. She sat down at the counter and pulled a stack of mail towards her.

She absently began to leaf through the fashion magazine that was on the top of the stack. Every now and then she would hear a delighted giggle from the other room – Orihime must have had a friend over, she guessed. She didn't care. They weren't being noisy, really. It was just quiet here in the kitchen.

Finished with the magazine, she pushed it to the side as she took another heaping spoon of ice cream and brought it up to her mouth. She kept it there as she looked through the various bills and junk mail. But there was one letter that didn't belong. Frowning, she looked at the envelope. The handwriting looked vaguely familiar, but she didn't immediately recognize it. Holding onto the spoon with her teeth now, she turned the envelope around and opened it.

There were a few pieces of paper inside, and it was obviously a letter. Before reading it, she looked to the bottom to see the name, and find out who'd sent her a letter, of all things. Most people she knew would just e-mail her, or call her. Or better yet, they'd just show up at her doorstep. She hadn't gotten a genuine letter in months.

She read the name at the end of the letter. And then she read it again, positive it wasn't right. But it was the same name. Eyes wide, she went to the front page again and started reading fast. The spoon dropped unheeded from her mouth when she gasped at the letter's contents.

"Oh, my God…"

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**Oh, I'm evil to just end it there, aren't I? I suppose I am. Anyways, thanks again for all the reviews and support!! It means a lot to me. And I really will try to start getting more frequent with these updates. Dang. I need like a taskmaster or something. Lol, someone who'll berate me and poke and prod me till I get stuff done. Oh, it's like those old commercials - I need a Sven.  
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**Review?  
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	7. Chapter 7

**Hello again!!**

**Okay, so I know that this is a reeeeeeeeeally long time for an update, especially from someone like me who normally writes like she's on crack. This story in particular hasn't been updated since like...January, I think? I intended to update in February...but then, my computer totally and completely died. As in epic hard drive failure. As in I lost everything that I had been working on and practically had to start from scratch. But, I like this chapter better than the original, so that's good, I suppose. Anyways, I am so, so, so sorry for making you guys wait like that. Especially since the last chapter was such a cliffhanger, haha. Hopefully this chapter is okay after such a long time off.**

**Thanks again for all the reviews/faves/alerts!!

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Rangiku stood anxiously in the waiting room, the letter she'd received clutched in her hands. She had come to the hospital as quickly as she could; the date on the letter was several days old, after all, and she didn't know what had happened since then. She hoped that it was nothing too serious. She had left Orihime and her friend alone as she'd rushed out the door, only taking time in change into an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt and put her hair up in a messy bun. She knew that she probably didn't look too nice right now, but she honestly didn't care.

"Excuse me, miss, but are you Rangiku Matsumoto?"

Rangiku looked up as a young nurse addressed her. She nodded quickly and stepped forward to the woman with the clipboard in her hands. "Yes, that's me," she said. "Can you tell me what the hell's going on here? I got this letter today but it's a couple days old." She followed the other woman into the back of the hospital. She ignored the rest of the staff and the patients being wheeled to and fro. They weren't important.

"Well, the doctor is going to take you up to see him," the nurse went on. "He should tell you everything you need to know. But he is in a stable condition."

"That's good, right?"

The nurse shrugged. "He could take a turn for the worse at any time," she admitted. "But as of now…that possibility seems rather unlikely. He's been stable for a few days now. I'm no doctor, but I would expect him to make a full recovery." She stopped in front of an elevator. "You'll need to take this up to the fourth floor. The doctor should be waiting for you there."

"Thank you," Rangiku nodded, pushing the button next to the silver doors. Almost immediately, there was a ding and the doors opened. She stepped inside and turned around before pressing the button with the number four on it. The nurse waved at her as the doors slid shut. She began to feel the elevator move up, and began to tap her foot impatiently. Why couldn't the damn things ever move any faster? It always went by so much faster if you just took the stairs.

She stepped out into a relatively quiet hallway as the elevator opened. Looking around, she saw a familiar blonde head and walked towards the man. He turned around when she was about half-way there. "Rangiku!" he said, a relieved look on his face. "I was beginning to think you weren't coming!"

"I only got your letter today, Kira," Rangiku said, holding up the piece of paper with a wry smile. "Stupid postal service." She shook her head. Her smile fading into an expression of worry, she continued, "So how is he? Or perhaps a better question is what happened?"

Kira shook his head. "It was an accident," he said. "He was just driving home from work; it was storming that day, and his hours generally go later."

"So he can sleep in more in the mornings," Rangiku added. "I know."

"Well, he was just driving when a drunk driver crossed over the median and hit him head-on," Kira continued, running a hand up through his short platinum blonde hair. "His car flipped over backwards from the impact. Several others were injured in the crash, but he was the most severely hurt."

"And the drunk driver?"

"Dead on impact," Kira said flatly.

Rangiku nodded. Even though she felt somewhat bad for the person, she couldn't help but feel that they'd gotten what they'd deserved. They'd hurt several people all because they were completely irresponsible. It was horrible. Even she didn't drink and drive, and she loved alcohol.

"But let's not talk about that now," Kira said. "I'll take you to him now." They set off down the hallway, following a set of green arrows painted on the floor. "So, how have you been?"

"Oh, I suppose I can't really complain," Rangiku said, shrugging. "Work has really been about the same. Of course…it's not the same since he left…but I'm not going to let that dominate my life." She smiled up at him.

"Well, that's good to know," he said. "You know…I don't think he ever really moved on. There were a few times where he'd come to me and ask what he did wrong, if he'd done the right thing." Rangiku felt her heart constrict painfully within her chest when he said that. She could say much the same thing, only she had gone to Kukaku and Yoruichi. He sighed. "He still loves you, Rangiku."

She stopped then. It took him a few seconds to notice that she wasn't behind him anymore. He turned back to look at her, but didn't say anything. She stared at him for a moment before mustering up the words she wanted to ask. "Why did you write me, Kira?" Her voice was soft. "Surely there were others you could have contacted."

"I…I'm not entirely sure of that myself," he said slowly. "But I had a hunch that if he were to wake up…you would be the one he wanted to see first." He shook his head. "I'm not trying to set you two up again. I'm no matchmaker. I just know that he misses you."

She was quiet for a moment, but nodded and continued on with him down the hallway. Kira was one of his best friends. Surely if anyone could understand the man, it was him. They stopped outside a small private room. Before they entered, Kira turned to look at her. "I have to warn you," he said cautiously, "that he was pretty badly injured in the car crash."

"I understand," she said.

"Alright," he said, nodding. He pushed down on the door handle, letting the door swing open. She took a breath, steeling herself, and then walked inside. There was a small hallway first that connected to a bathroom. The back room contained the actual bad and equipment. She stopped as soon as she first got into that room, her breath catching in her throat. She had thought she had prepared herself…but she could not have prepared herself for this. Kira had come to stand behind her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Both of his legs were in plaster casts, the right one up to his hip and the left up to his knee. His right arm was in another cast that went all the way up to his shoulder. A bandage was wrapped around his head, tufts of hair sticking out at odd angles. He wasn't wearing anything over his torso; instead, he had bandages wrapped around the entire area. There were a myriad of shallows cuts over his face, neck and unbroken arm and bruises mottling the skin of his chest and stomach that wasn't obscured by bandages.

She looked up at Kira for an explanation. "The accident was quite bad," he said grimly. "His right leg was completely crushed by the impact; the femur, tibia and fibula are all broken. Luckily, his knee came away with nothing more than minor injuries that will heal on their own. In the other leg, the impact wasn't so hard, so only the fibula was broken. The tibia fractured, but it was only minor. His right arm suffered about the same as his right leg. All of the bones are completely crushed and will take time to heal.

"As for the other injuries…" he paused before continuing. "One of the windshield wipers on the car that hit his somehow came loose and the impact embedded it in his chest." She couldn't stop the gasp that popped out of her mouth at that; it was just too gruesome. "We removed the object, but it left a very deep wound that spreads from his left shoulder all the way down to about the third lumbar vertebra."

"What about his head?" she asked.

"That was just a minor wound on the back," he explained. "When his car flipped over, his head came off the back of the headrest and hit the top portion of the seatbelt. It was a small cut, but head wounds always bleed profusely. The rest of the scratches are minor as well. There were a few broken ribs, but they were clean breaks."

She nodded slowly and forced herself to move over to stand beside his bed. "He is going to be alright…isn't he?" She looked up at him.

He smiled at her. "I expect him to make a full recovery," he said. "None of the wounds are fatal. He just suffered a lot of them." She nodded and returned her gaze to his sleeping face. His silvery-purplish hair was longer than she remembered, the bangs almost long enough to completely cover his eyes at some points. His breathing was shallow, but even. "Do you want me to leave you alone now?" Kira asked quietly.

"You don't have to leave," Rangiku said softly, "but I'm sure you have better things to do. You are a doctor after all." She smiled sardonically.

He nodded. "I'll be back to check on him in about an hour or so," he said. She nodded once more. She heard his footsteps as he left the room and closed the door behind him. She couldn't resist putting a hand gently on the side of his face, trailing her fingertips down the skin. She sighed, her smile softening. "What have you done to yourself now?" she asked playfully. "You're always getting yourself into trouble."

He didn't respond. She didn't expect him to. She kept her hand on his face. The skin was so soft…just like it always had been. She had always used to tease him about his baby-soft skin. He'd always rolled his eyes at her. His mouth wasn't set in its usual smirk, instead hanging slightly open in his sleep. She didn't remember him doing that. Perhaps it was a new habit of his. After all, she hadn't seen him since he had walked out of her life, two years ago.

* * *

Kukaku looked up from her magazine when she heard the knock on her door. She frowned; almost no one ever came to visit her. She normally came over to her friends' houses. They all knew that her house was basically a pigsty because she hated cleaning up. Now, it didn't smell or anything. She did the dishes, took out the trash and cleaned the bathrooms. There was just clutter everywhere.

Pushing herself up off the couch, she walked over to the door and swung it open. There, standing on her doorstep, was that annoying brute who worked as the bouncer at the club in the Red Light District. "You!" she said angrily. "I don't wanna talk to you! What the hell are you even doing here?!" She had to fight not to just slam the door in his face.

"You know, that message you left me wasn't very nice," he commented lightly.

She glared up at him. "So?"

"I don't like it when people leave nasty messages on my phone," he said sharply.

"Yeah, well I don't like it when people lie to my face just to get a rise out of me!" she shot back.

"Just to get a rise out of you?" he repeated, a look of surprise on his face. "What makes you think you're that special?"

She scowled at him. "You know what?" she asked rhetorically. "I hate you."

"Congratulations," he said gruffly. He looked past her then into her apartment and raised an eyebrow at the clutter. "You know, I never pegged you as a slob."

"I'm not a slob!" she said vehemently.

"That's not what it looks like," he said speculatively.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," she spat. She started as her cell phone suddenly began to vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and held it up to her ear, not bothering to tell this man to just fuck off. Maybe he'd get the hint and just leave. "Hello?" she snapped.

"Kukaku?" a small voice asked. It was Rangiku. "Were you busy?" Her friend sounded completely drained.

"No, I'm not busy at all," Kukaku said, shooting the man a glance that clearly said he wasn't worth her time. He just smirked at her, crossing his massive arms over his chest. He didn't budge. "Why, do you need something?"

"Well…I'm at the hospital," Rangiku went on. "There…there was an accident."

"Wait…what?" she asked. "Were you in it? Are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm fine," Rangiku said quickly. "I wasn't in the accident. It was…" she broke off with a sigh before continuing. "It was Gin, Kukaku. He was in the accident. Kira sent me a letter because he thought he would want to see me when he woke up. So that's where I am now."

"I thought you weren't allowed to use cell phones in hospitals," Kukaku said flatly, forgetting the seriousness of the moment.

"Of course not," Rangiku snorted. "But they do have land lines, you know."

Kukaku would've given herself a nice face-palm moment if this idiot hadn't been standing on her doorstep staring at her…still. God, couldn't he take a fucking hint? "Yeah, forgot about that. So do you want me to come over there?"

"If you're not busy, that would be nice," Rangiku admitted. "He's been asleep for the past few days and they're not sure when he'll wake up."

"Okay, I'm on my way," Kukaku said, snapping her phone shut. She grabbed a jacket from inside the doorway and shrugged it on. She could feel her keys in her pocket. She closed the door behind her and walked down the steps. But just as she was about to head off to her motorcycle, she remembered that she'd had to take it in to have the brakes inspected. "Dammit!" she cursed. She really hated relying on public transportation. It was just so much of a hassle.

"Got a problem?" a rough voice asked from behind her.

She turned around, glaring up at this giant of a man. "Yes, I have a fucking problem," she snarled. "Two, actually. One – you are still here, goddammit! Two – I have to get to the hospital and I have to take fucking public transportation because my bike's in the shop!"

"What's wrong with public transportation?" he asked, blinking at her.

"Che, what's not wrong with it?" she retorted.

He shrugged and then walked over to where his own motorcycle stood, parked against the curb. He hopped onto the bike and fished around in his pockets until he found the key. "You know…" he said thoughtfully. "You could always come with me. I'm going by that way anyways."

"What?" she asked flatly.

"Are you deaf, or just plain stupid?" he demanded.

"Why the hell are you offering a ride to me?" she asked.

"Because I'm just that fucking generous," he said. "Now, are you coming or not?"

She weighed her options. On one hand, she really didn't want to ride on a motorcycle with this arrogant jerk. But on the other hand, she really, truly despised public transportation. "What the hell," she muttered. How bad could it be? She stepped over to him and straddled the bike behind him. She didn't want to, but she put her hands around his stomach anyways, knowing that she'd have to or risk falling off.

He snorted. "Don't look so morose, sweetie," he sneered. "I ain't gonna hurt ya." Without warning, he started the bike, revved the engine a few times and then sped off down the street. He whizzed past cars so fast that they honked their horns at him and swerved wildly to get out of his way. Kukaku would've been scared shitless if it weren't for the fact that she drove the exact same way. As it was, she was able to keep her wits about her while they were flying through the streets.

Only a few minutes later, he pulled up to the curb at the side of an entrance to the hospital. She clambered off, smoothing her clothes around her body from where they had been windswept. "Don't expect me to thank you," she warned the man, glaring at him reproachfully. "I'm still pissed as hell about what you did."

"Che, does it look like I need your thanks?" he asked, rolling his eyes. "But you could quit calling me 'you', you know. I have a name."

"No shit, Sherlock," Kukaku deadpanned. He stared at her for a moment, not answering. "Well, are you going to finish that up?" she finally demanded when he said nothing for several minutes straight.

"Kenpachi Zaraki," he grunted out. "Owner of Club Crimsyn."

"Owner?" she repeated. "I thought you were just the bouncer."

He grinned at her, showing off his very sharp teeth. "Well, you learn something new every day, right?" He nodded at her once. "See ya later, babe." Without another word, he picked his feet up and pushed off, heading on down the road. She scowled at the nickname, but she couldn't really do anything about it. So instead, she turned on her heel and went into the entrance of the hospital.

* * *

Rangiku took a sip of her coffee before looking back up at the muted TV screen in the corner of the room. It was late, and there was absolutely nothing on except for news programs and other shows that no one in their right mind would ever watch. Kukaku had come in earlier, but she had to leave to get some work done. But that hour or so that she had spent by Rangiku's side had helped the latter a lot. Now she was just trying to think of what she was going to say when he woke up.

Her eyes drifted back to the bed, looking down at his sleeping figure. For the past several hours, he'd been shifting more in his sleep – well, as much as someone could shift when you were basically strapped into a bed like that. It was mainly small movements that she would just barely catch out of the corner of her eye – a twitched finger or a shift of his head. She kept expecting to look over at him one time and see him awake.

Kira had said that he hadn't woken up yet, but also that considering the amount of injuries he'd sustained, it was normal that his body was resting to recover more quickly. He was in a stable condition: he was breathing normally, had an IV to make sure he didn't get dehydrated, was being fed through a feeding tube and was consistently being monitored by nurses. He wasn't in any pain either; they were apparently giving him enough morphine to sedate a horse.

She sighed and turned to look at the clock. 11:36. She had been here for nearly five hours, and yet she still couldn't bring herself to leave. It was strange, that. Even after all he had done to her, she still wanted to be the one he saw when he woke up. She had never wanted him to get hurt, even after all the pain he'd caused her. She had never truly forgiven him for leaving two years ago, but she had moved on.

Suddenly, a low moan drew her attention. She nearly dropped her coffee when she realized that he was finally waking up. Instantly, she set it down on a nearby table and stood up, walking over to his bedside. His head was to the side, and his eyes were scrunched up, as if he were some teenager who didn't want to get up for school. Her hands were clenching the bed frame tensely – what would his reaction be?

It seemed like hours before he finally opened his eyes, even though she knew it was only a matter of moments. After blinking a few times, he slowly turned his head up. Her breath caught in her throat as his gaze fell upon her; a look of confusion came across his face. She smiled at him. "Hey," she offered quietly, unable to come up with anything better.

"Ra…Rangiku?" he asked, his voice hoarse from disuse. "What are you-?"

"Kira wrote me," she replied, cutting him off. It was obvious to her the effort that he was expending just by talking. It was almost painful to watch his chest heave up and down with the effort.

He nodded. "Figures," he murmured. "But…why…"

She shook her head, her smile turning into what she feared was quite sad. "I don't know, Gin. I don't really know."

* * *

**So yeah, this is mainly a Rangiku chapter. The next one will focus more on the others. But I had to get this part set up, haha. Hopefully it's not too horrible.  
**

**Don't forget to review =D!!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh my God, you guys, I am so sorry this took so long to get out!! I really have no excuse too, which makes it so much worse!!**

**And I won't even be around for another month or so because May is jampacked for me. I have to take an AP test this Friday, finish a semester project for English, write and illustrate a book for French, study for finals and take the ACT again. And I have to score higher than my previous score, so I actually have to study. Stupid math section - I would've gotten a freaking 33 if my math hadn't been so terrible. I hate math. So I must hit the books and study.**

**Again, I'm terribly sorry for the delay!! But thanks again for the reviews/faves/alerts!!

* * *

**

Nanao took one final look at herself in the mirror and sighed. She'd been fixing her hair for the past half an hour, but it still wasn't willing to cooperate. She hated having hair days like this! It was so frustrating. She walked out of her bedroom then, setting her purse on the kitchen counter and making sure she had everything she needed. To be honest, she hadn't been sure that she'd still wanted to have this date tonight, with all that was happening to Rangiku. But the other woman had insisted that she go.

She had dressed herself in relatively simple clothes that still looked good on her. She only hoped that this night wouldn't go badly. She didn't want it to be awkward either. Awkward first dates were _horrible._ And she'd had enough of them in her lifetime to know.

She looked over at the clock. It was about six thirty. They'd agreed that he would come to her apartment and pick her up at about seven, go to dinner and go see a movie. She had prepared herself for some stupid male action movie with lots of gore and where everyone died in the end. Except the hero, of course – he would end up with tons of money and a big-breasted blonde beauty on his arm. She didn't really like movies like that, but she could tolerate them.

She still had about a half an hour to go. She walked into the living room and turned on the TV, switching it to a channel that she found remotely interesting. There was currently some crime scene investigation show on. Even as her eyes watched it absently, she still wasn't able to concentrate on what was happening. If she'd had a quiz on it, she probably would've gotten every single question wrong.

But who could blame her? She hadn't been on a real date in almost a whole year. Her last relationship had ended badly, to say the least, and she'd convinced herself that all men were scumbugs and that she had no reason to get involved with them. And of course, six months later, she had met that infuriatingly charming flowerboy. She sighed and shut the television off. There was no use in watching it; she was too nervous about tonight.

Standing up, she walked over to the counter and grabbed her purse, moving towards her front door. She figured that she could always go outside to clear her mind for a little bit. It may have been freezing outside, but she'd found that cold air always made you think more. She turned around to lock her door behind her, and then dropped her keys in her pocket as she turned around again. But no sooner had she done so than she ran into one Shunsui Kyoraku.

"Woah!"

She took a step back quickly, embarrassed that she'd just smacked into her date for the night. She looked down at her watch quickly; it was only six forty-five…he was early. People were only early if they were either very eager or just wanted to get the date over with. Despite herself, she hoped that it was the first explanation and not the second. "I'm sorry," she said, flushing a bit.

"No, no, not a problem at all!" he said happily. He stared at her for a moment. "You look lovely tonight."

"Thank you," she said curtly. They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before she cleared her throat. "Well, I guess we should be leaving now."

"Oh, right," he said, tearing his eyes away from his face. "Tell me, do you like French food?" he asked as they walked down the hallway to the elevator.

"French food?" she repeated absently. He pushed against the down button before turning to look at her. "I don't think I've ever had any French food."

"Oh, then you're in for a treat tonight!" he exclaimed happily. "It's so amazing!" He flashed her a brilliant, thousand-watt smile. "Everything is so rich, and so divine and _smells! _Goodness, it could drive a man insane! Don't even get me started on the desserts-" He broke off suddenly, staring at her apprehensively. "You aren't one of those women who doesn't eat desserts, are you?"

She blinked as the elevator dinged and opened. They stepped inside; he was still giving her an anxious look, awaiting her answer. "Um…I indulge every now and then," she said quietly. She couldn't afford to pig out on a pint of Ben and Jerry's every day; with her work, that was like a kiss of death for your ass and thighs. She already had to work out more than she'd like and she barely ever consumed sugar. Many times she longed for higher metabolism. But unfortunately, genetics were working against her.

He sighed with relief. "Thank goodness!" he breathed. "If you didn't eat sugar, I don't know what I would've done!"

She blinked. Wasn't that obvious? It wasn't like she would get offended if he had a piece of cake. It wasn't something to get that worked up about. "It's just cake," she said out loud, frowning at him.

"But a cake not shared is a cake not worth having!" he said sagely.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. That seemed like a very poor attempt at Shakespeare to her. As the elevator doors opened into the lobby of her apartment complex, they quickly made their way outside. She was praying that he didn't ride a bike. Holding her breath, she waited to see where he led her. She sighed in relief when she saw that he drove a normal, black sedan. Actually, it was quite nice. It looked like a Mercedes. She didn't know he was that well-off.

"Surprised that I actually have a car?" he asked wryly.

She looked over at him, startled. How did he know she was thinking that?!? "O-of course n-not," she said quickly. To her surprise, he just chuckled as if he knew she was lying.

"It's alright," he said. "I get that a lot." He sighed as they got into the car. "I'm known as the hippie dipstick of the street by all the other business owners." Nanao couldn't help but snort at that. He looked at her with a look of confusion on his face. "Now, the hippie part I can somewhat understood – though I think I'm allergic to patchouli – but I really have no clue as to what a dipstick is. Do you know what a dipstick is?"

Her shoulders shaking in a fit of silent laughter, she could only shake her head in response. But seriously – how did one respond to a question like that? It was almost like a kid asking his mother what "fuck" meant. She had to look out the window and blink furiously to keep the tears from spilling from her eyes. "Oh my God," she muttered under her breath.

"Was that a stupid question?" he asked.

She turned to look at him, the hint of a smirk on her lips. "You have no idea," she said bluntly.

He sighed. "I knew it. Mother always said that I'm always putting my foot in my mouth." He shook his head. "Oh, she's probably turning in her grave right now." He looked up to the heavens. "Forgive me, Mother!"

Now it was Nanao's turn to sigh. She sincerely hoped the rest of the evening wasn't going to be like this. If not, she might just have to kill herself with her butter knife. And quite frankly, that would take much more effort than she was willing to expend.

* * *

Yoruichi groaned as she woke up, uncurling her body from the unfamiliar position. She was in a bed somewhere, only it was unnaturally warm and surprisingly comfortable. Now her bed at home was far from uncomfortable. But it really couldn't compare to the softness and warmth that was to be found here. She wondered absently where this was. She rolled over then, and ran into something warm and quite solid. Opening her golden eyes, she was surprised to see Kisuke lying next to her, surprisingly innocent-looking in his sleep. She blinked.

Oh. That was right. She had spent the night last night after Kisuke had invited her over for dinner. But why was she sleeping like this? Before she had moved, she had been curled up right next to his side, like some kind of cat. And one of his arms was spread out underneath the back of her head. It didn't really seem like a comfortable position to be in, to be honest, but his face looked quite peaceful.

She stared at him for a few moments, memorizing the expression on his face. She had never seen it before. Sixty percent of the time it was hidden behind a fan anyways, and the other forty percent of the time, he was either smirking or feigning shock. She had never seen him look so innocent. After all, the word wasn't really in the man's vocabulary. She reached out absently and grabbed a piece of his fair hair, moving it from where it had fallen in front of his face. Even though the movement was slight, his eyes snapped open, staring at her curiously. She froze, her hand still in mid-air.

"You don't have to stop, you know," he said quietly. "I don't bite."

"Most of the time," she clarified, releasing the breath she'd held in anticipation. He smirked. She let her hand push the hair back all the way behind his ear before letting it drop back down to her side. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I'm a light sleeper," he said.

"Apparently."

"Should we get up?" he asked.

"Oh, why bother," she said, curling back up and closing her eyes.

He chuckled at that. "See, that's why I like you," he said, drawing her closer to him. "You understand the concept of there being a time to work and a time to relax." He let out a sigh and fell silent for a few moments. She listened to his steady breathing; the noise had almost lulled her back to sleep when he spoke up again. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," she pointed out.

"Oh, very funny," he said. She smiled. He paused for a second before continuing. "So, besides from the fact that you get to work with amazingly handsome and talented people like me…what keeps you in this industry?"

She was quiet for a moment, considering her answer. "It's what I know," she said finally, unable to summon up a better response.

"Haven't you ever wanted to get out of it?" he asked.

"There were times, yes," she affirmed. "But every time I had convinced myself that I needed to get out…I remembered that this was all I knew. I never went to college; I never got a higher degree of education. I had just barely finished high school when my father threw me out. I can't do anything else. I don't really know what I'm going to do when I get too old to do this anymore."

"Do you remember a few days ago when you asked me whether or not I thought you should quit?"

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Yes," she said softly, "why?"

He looked down at her. "What if I took back my answer and said that I wanted you to quit?" he proposed. "What would you do?"

"I would want to know why you want me to quit," she said quickly, not even having to think about her answer.

"Because, like I said before, you can do so much better than this industry," he said.

"Doing what?" she asked, sighing. "I already told you I have no secondary education. It would be next to impossible to get any kind of comfortable job!"

"I could teach you," he said bluntly, turning over onto his side to look down at her.

She blinked. "Teach me what?" she asked.

"Photography," he said. "Sales." He shrugged before smiling deviously. "I'm a man of many talents."

She laughed. "Oh, I know," she said. "But…you must have another reason for me to quit. It can't just be because you think I can do better than this. _I_ know that I can do better than this. But…this is my safety blanket. This is what I'm comfortable with, as twisted as that is."

"But you'll have to leave the industry in a few years anyway," he pointed out. "Because let's face it, you aren't getting any younger and the clients prefer models very young these days."

She scowled at him. "I should hit you for that," she scolded, "but since I'm so nice, I won't." She paused before continuing. "But why do you care so much? You don't do this for every model you work with, and I would know considering the fact that I know most of them."

"You're special," he said. "They aren't you."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," she said playfully.

"I'm serious this time," he said, smiling at her. "You aren't like anyone else I've ever met. I don't want to let you go. And we both know that that is what _will _happen if you don't find another way to keep us together."

"You know," she said slowly, "it sounds like you want to ask me out." He smirked at her. "But of course you're so evil that you'd wait until I got fed up with waiting and ask you myself." She wiggled her way closer to him, making him lean back so that he was lying on his back. "So why don't we just cut to the chase?"

"And what exactly are you suggesting?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She smiled and leaned closer. "This is the part where I ask you out," she said, leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips. She withdrew. "And now, you say yes." She looked down at him expectantly.

"How you twist my arms!"

"I know," she said.

"So what's next?" he asked eagerly.

"Have you ever heard of the phrase screw like rabbits?" she suggested deviously.

"Oh, my dear, I practically invented that phrase," he informed her.

She lowered her lips to his until they were just barely touching, sending sparks of electricity through her nerves to her brain, where the cells were tingling. "Then I think you know exactly what's next," she said quietly.

"This is my favorite part," he whispered conspiratorially.

She nipped at his bottom lip teasingly. "Mine too."

* * *

Rangiku was sitting quietly at the table, humming softly as she filled out the paperwork in front of her. Well, it wasn't really paperwork. It was more of a survey that she'd found online. It was supposed to predict your current rate of happiness; it was scientifically tested and used by psychologists too. She'd made all of her fellow friends take it, but of course, she was going to take it too. Some of the questions seemed odd, such as What do you keep in your medicine cabinet? But she supposed they all had some purpose. At least that was what she kept telling herself.

"Gah!"

She looked up to see Gin wincing in pain as he tried to sit up, yet again. She sighed. "The doctor told you not to try to sit up again," she reminded him.

"I'm tired of lying down!" he whined. "My butt's asleep!"

She raised an eyebrow. "Sitting up won't help."

"I know," he said, slumping back down. He looked over at her appraisingly after a few moments of staring at the opposing wall. "You know…you could always help me out a bit."

"I could," she said, pretending to think about it for a moment, "but I won't."

"Oh, you're no fun," he pouted.

"Since when is me slapping your ass fun?" she asked, frowning at him.

"Well, I always found it particularly delightful," he reasoned.

She rolled her eyes. "You know, I do have work to do," she said, pointing down to the papers on the desk.

"Bullshit," he said, smiling cheerfully at her. "You don't do paperwork unless the bills are due tomorrow."

"How do you know?" she asked. "I could've changed after all, it's been two…years…never mind," she finished up rather quickly, returning to her survey. Gin didn't say anything back to her, instead looking away. It had been a rather challenging two days since she'd gotten here, to be honest, considering that she was always having to carefully watch what she said so that she didn't bring up their split. But it was proving harder than she'd originally thought. There seemed to be hardly any subjects that didn't _somehow _relate to their split two years ago.

"What are you doing anyway?"

She looked up at his curious question. He was staring down at the papers. "Oh, it's just a test to see how happy you are at your current stage of life," she said dismissively. "It's supposedly been proven to be true by all their psychologists in America! I'm making all of my friends take it too!"

"Why would you take a test to see how happy you are?" he asked. "Don't you already know?"

"…it never hurts to get a second opinion."

* * *

Nemu fidgeted nervously with the hem of the bright pink skirt Orihime had lent her. She wasn't used to wearing such girly clothing. Normally she was more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of person unless she was working. Of course then, clothing was generally just one's birthday suit. "You look so pretty, Nemu!"

She looked up to see Orihime coming out of her bedroom, wearing a pretty yellow sundress that made her hair stand out. She'd suggested that they all go out to eat tonight. She'd hinted – slyly, according to her, but Nemu probably thought it was rather blunt – to Ichigo that he should bring Uryu. And another girl named Rukia was coming as well; she was a long-time friend of Ichigo's. It made Nemu nervous; she really didn't know any of these people. And how would they act around her? She was already preparing to be considered an outsider.

"Are you ready to go then?" Orihime asked, pulling on her arm. Nemu let herself be pulled up, straightening the edge of the skirt absently. The other girl had dressed her today. Along with the pink mini-skirt, she was wearing a plain white tank top with a matching white cardigan and a pair of small white sneakers. Her hair, normally tied back in a tightly plaited braid, was hanging loose around her shoulders in waves. She thought she looked silly, but Orihime assured her that she looked beautiful.

They walked over to the door and left the apartment, heading for the elevator. "You seem nervous, Nemu!" the other girl proclaimed.

"Just a little," Nemu admitted as the doors shut and they started moving down.

"Oh, don't be," Orihime said dismissively. "They're all really nice! Though Ichigo looks kind of scary when you first meet him…but don't let him intimidate you! He's a real softie inside! And you already know Uryu. He won't let people be mean to you. And Rukia and Renji are really cool too!"

"I'm just worried they won't like me," Nemu said. The doors to the elevator dinged open and the two of them walked out into the lobby. There weren't many people here right now. But one in particular stood out to Nemu. The young man had incredibly bright orange hair. He was staring out the front door, his brows heavy over his brown eyes. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his jeans. He turned to look their way when the elevator doors dinged.

"Oh, hi, Ichigo!" Orihime said, waving brightly at him. Nemu blinked. _This _was Orihime's boyfriend? She would have never put the two together. She jumped a bit when Orihime grabbed her arm and started dragging her over to where the man stood. Darn it, but Orihime was strong! She didn't look like it, but she had to have killer biceps because Nemu was no wimp herself.

"Hey," the man said, taking one hand out of his pocket and holding it up. His gaze shifted from Orihime to Nemu then. He smirked. "So you're the girl who's got Ishida all flustered?" he asked. "Yeah, you're exactly his type."

"Type?" Nemu asked quietly.

"The intellectual beauty," Ichigo clarified.

"But you don't know that I'm intelligent," Nemu pointed out.

He snorted. "Yeah, I do. You look smart."

Nemu was about to ask how somebody could look smart, but Orihime quickly leaped forward and grabbed her boyfriend's hand. "We should get going!" she said. "I don't want Renji, Rukia and Uryu to have to wait a long time for us!"

"Let 'em wait," Ichigo said.

"That's not very nice," Orihime pointed out.

"I never said that I was nice," Ichigo said, shrugging.

Orihime shrugged. The three of them then made their way to Ichigo's car. Nemu took the back seat while Orihime sat in the passenger's seat. The girl talked with her boyfriend almost the whole way to the restaurant, only towards the end remembering that Nemu was even there. But Nemu didn't really mind. At least the other had invited her. That was more than anyone else had done.

The restaurant turned out to be a nice Italian place. There was even valet parking, so they could just get out at the front door. Nemu stood with Ichigo while Orihime talked to the host and asked where they could find the rest of their group. "She's so excited," Nemu said quietly.

"That's how she always is," Ichigo responded. She looked up at him, surprised. She hadn't been expecting him to reply to her words. "She never lets herself be negative because she's determined to live her life to the fullest. Even when her family was killed in a car crash, she didn't let herself grieve more than a few days."

"I didn't know that her family was dead," Nemu said softly.

"Yeah," Ichigo said. "Rangiku was friends with her mom."

"I found them guys!" Orihime said happily, coming back to lead them to the table. Nemu was the last one to follow the group. It turned out that they were seated in a rather secluded part of the restaurant. She preferred that to being right out in the open. The only girl at the table was small and dark-haired, with huge violet eyes. She looked rather bored. She was sitting in between Uryu and a tall, red-haired man she'd never seen before. He had his arms crossed over his chest and was currently glaring at Ichigo. She looked at Uryu last; to her surprise, he was staring at her. She flushed under the scrutiny. "You sit next to Uryu, Nemu," Orihime whispered to her.

She slowly sat down in the seat next to Uryu. Orihime sat beside her, and Ichigo next to the angry looking red-head. "Could ya've taken any longer gettin' here?" he demanded.

Ichigo glared back at him. "I got here as fast I could, so shut the hell up," he snapped.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot you drive like a freakin' girl," the red-head sneered. "Always stayin' below the speed limit so the cops don't get ya." He stopped suddenly when the girl next to him smacked him on the back of the head. "Rukia!" he said, scowling at her.

"I resent that remark," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "And besides, you're scaring our guest."

Nemu flushed when all eyes at the table suddenly turned to her. She didn't really know what to do, but luckily Orihime jumped in to her rescue. "Guys, this is Nemu Kurotsuchi!" she said. "She's in the same grade as us at university!"

"Hello," Nemu said quietly, smiling nervously.

"I've never seen you before," the girl named Rukia said thoughtfully. "What's your major?"

"Um, I'm double majoring in Biochemistry and Nuclear Engineering," she said.

"Well, shit," the red-head said. "I feel like an idiot already."

"That's because it's your normal state of mind," Ichigo said, smirking.

"Oh, put a sock in it," the red-head snapped. "You don't hold a candle to her either."

"And you don't hold a candle to me, Mr. General Studies Major," Ichigo said.

"Just so you know, they do this quite often," Uryu murmured to her.

She turned to look at him. "Why?"

"It's because they're so similar," he said. "They're both stubborn, stupid and cocky. They fight over every single thing that's possibly debatable." He shook his head, rolling his eyes. "I don't understand it." He smiled then. "You look nice tonight."

"Thank you," she said, flushing.

"You should wear your hair down more often," he commented. "It looks nice."

She was about to thank him again when Rukia spoke up again. "Now that the two village idiots have been appeased," she started, shooting glares at the red-head and Ichigo, who were pointedly ignoring each other, "it's nice to meet you. So have you always lived around here?"

"Yes," Nemu responded. "My father used to be a nuclear engineer for the university."

"Say, he wasn't that batshit crazy guy who got locked up in a padded cell a few years ago, was it?"

"Renji!" Uryu said, staring incredulously at the other.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I just wanted to know!"

"Uryu's right," Rukia said, scowling at him. "Don't be so rude!" She sighed and turned back to Nemu. "Sorry about him. He doesn't have the best sense of tact."

"No, it's fine," Nemu said quietly. "But yes…that's my father."

"That guy was a genius," Ichigo said quietly. "My dad knew him."

"His dad's a doctor," Orihime explained to her.

"It's no wonder you're so smart," Ichigo said to Nemu.

"I'm not as smart as him," she said, shaking her head.

"Are you kidding me?" Uryu asked. "Have you even read that paper you wrote on nuclear fission?" He shook his head. "I've never read such an interesting paper on how atoms divide. You're every bit as smart as him. Just more mentally stable."

"Aw, how sweet," Renji said, snickering at Uryu. "Ishida's found a lady nerd!"

"Don't you feel like a proud parent?" Ichigo asked, smirking.

Nemu was confused. First the two had been fighting and now they were acting like the best of friends. "Are they always this bipolar?" She asked without thinking. When the two of them heard her words and turned to look at her, she flushed and clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!" she said quickly.

There was silence for a minute, and then Rukia, Orihime and Uryu burst out laughing. "She'll fit right in here," Rukia said.

* * *

**Okay, so I have a question for you guys. I want to know whether or not you want Rangiku and Gin to get back together or not. I'm currently torn between the two and can't decide because I could really go either way and be fine with it. So, I need your opinions!!**

**A - Rangiku and Gin get back together**

**B - They don't**

**C - Or you could tell me an awesome idea you have for something else, I'm open to suggestions =3  
**

**I'd really appreciate it if you guys could tell me!!  
**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello again! **

**I know it's been over a month. Eeks. Sorry about the wait. I'm slowly reimmersing myself into the Bleach world again. I've been stuck in the -Man universe for practically forever, haha, and haven't been able to get back into Bleach, even though it will always be my first major manga love. I sound like an uber-dweeb XD. Oh well. At least here, I'm not alone. Hopefully. So, here's the next chapter!!**

**Also, with the poll from last chapter...it's seriously like split 50/50 for Rangiku and Gin being together or not. So. After this chapter you guy's can give me your opinions again. Because I've decided who Gin's alternative would be if they don't end up together. And by the end, you guys should be able to tell too. I hope it's obvious enough.**

**Thanks again for the reviews/faves/alerts!!

* * *

**

"Let's watch a movie!"

Nanao looked over at Shunsui – who'd insisted that she call him by his first name – who was currently digging what appeared to be dozens of DVD cases out of his jacket pockets. She sighed. Their first date had gone rather well last week; they had gone out for lunch on their second, which had been today. And now, they had decided to watch a movie. Only the theater was currently closed for renovations, so they'd had to come back to her house. Which was why she was currently stuck with a man who apparently had bottomless pockets.

"How in the world did you fit all those movies into your pockets?" she asked flatly.

"Very carefully," he replied, winking. "So what do you want to watch? Sleepless in Seattle, Titanic, P.S. I Love You, The Phantom of the Opera…I've got tons!"

"Is there a particular reason why you brought nothing but sappy chick flicks?" she asked wryly, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't like them?" he asked, his face dropping.

"I don't have a problem with them," Nanao said, shrugging. "But most men think they're stupid."

"Stupid?!" he cried indignantly. "How outrageous! These are paragons of modern day love stories! How on earth could anyone hate them?!" He shook his head. "That's like saying you hate chocolate, or ice cream!"

"I don't particularly care for ice cream," she informed him, coming over to sit beside him on the couch and survey the various DVD cases.

"You don't?" he asked incredulously.

"It's so messy," she said distastefully. "The taste's okay, as long as you don't choose some of the stranger ones, like cotton candy or licorice. But it melts before you eat it all, and no matter if it's in a bowl or a cone, your hands always get messy, or wet. It's just too much of a hassle."

"But that's the best part!" he protested. He sighed. "Please tell me you like chocolate."

"Chocolate is quite nice," she said, looking at the case of a movie she'd never seen before.

He sighed again, this time in relief. "Thank heavens," he said. "I wouldn't know what else to get you on Valentine's Day!"

"Ice cream is hardly an appropriate Valentine's Day gift," Nanao said flatly. "Chocolate is normal, I suppose, but honestly…ice cream? Have you never heard of flowers? You own a flower shop, for crying out loud. And there's always stuffed animals."

"Stuffed animals?"

"I'm rather partial to cats."

"…duly noted."

"This one," she said, pointing to a DVD case. "Let's watch this one."

"Ah, I love that one!" he exclaimed happily. "I haven't seen it in forever!"

"Then I guess it's a good choice," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement.

He stood up then to put the DVD in the player and skip through the commercials. As the opening theme rolled out, he came back over to sit beside her, moving the other DVD cases onto the coffee table. He stretched out a bit to get comfortable, throwing an arm behind her on the couch. As the minutes progressed, she noticed that his arm kept getting closer and closer until finally she just sighed and drug it the rest of the way down onto her shoulders.

"Take some initiative," she muttered. "I don't bite."

He chuckled. "Maybe not," he said. "But you might slap."

"Violence isn't the answer," she retorted.

"I don't want to scare you away."

She snorted. "You're about as scary as the tooth fairy," she said bluntly.

"Aw, you've crushed my masculine pride," he whined, putting a hand to his heart.

"Good," she said smugly. "You had far too much of it to begin with." She looked up at him, half-smiling. "But next time…just go for it."

He watched her for a moment before quickly leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to her lips. She blinked in surprise, before flushing a bit. She couldn't believe he'd just done that! And only on the second date! She couldn't help it, she was terribly old-fashioned. But she had to admit, she'd rather enjoyed it.

"Duly noted," he said, smiling.

* * *

"What is that?" Orihime asked innocently, looking over at two of her best friends as they scoured a magazine. It was lunchtime, and they were eating at the university cafeteria, though she had to say, the food wasn't all that original. It was so…bland. She found herself having to bring her own condiments to spice things up a bit. But it was cheap. And cheap was good.

Rukia looked at Tatsuki, and then back to Orihime. "It's…just a magazine," she said quietly.

"Yeah," Tatsuki piped up. "Just an ordinary, average magazine."

"Really?" Orihime asked. She checked the name on the cover. "I've never heard of that one. Is it new?"

"Um, not really," Rukia said, biting her bottom lip.

"Oh," Orihime said, frowning. She wondered why she hadn't ever seen it before. "Well, what kind of magazine is it?"

"Nothing special," Tatsuki said quickly, flipping a page.

"…why is there a sweaty man on the cover?" Orihime asked, blinking. "It's not a clothing magazine, is it? Because you two wouldn't look at a men's magazine, seeing as how you're both girls." She laughed at her own joke, if only because she knew no one else would. Not very many people seemed to get her humor.

Rukia sighed. "It's a porno magazine, Orihime," she said bluntly, staring down intently at a page.

"Rukia!" Tatsuki cried, shocked. "Don't say that out loud!" She looked around suspiciously. "What if someone heard you?"

"What are they gonna do about it?" Rukia asked, completely unfazed. "Every single boy at this university has had at least one porno mag in their lifetime. It's not a big deal."

"Why would you have a porno magazine?" Orihime asked naïvely.

Tatsuki shot her one of those looks that always made her feel like she was missing something. "Honestly, Orihime, do you not know?" she asked.

"Know what?"

"You know how guys like to look at pictures of girls?" Rukia said, continuing on Tatsuki's description. Orihime nodded; that, at least, she was completely aware of. "Well, girls like to look at guys too. Only we don't get off to them."

"Rukia!" Tatsuki snorted. She sounded indignant, but she couldn't help but smile.

"It's true and you know it," Rukia said, smirking a bit. "Hey, look at that picture." She pointed to a picture on the page; Tatsuki leaned down for a closer view. "That guy looks a lot like Renji. Geez, and I thought that there was only one guy out there in the world with natural crimson hair."

"How do you know it's natural?" Orihime asked.

This time, both Tatsuki and Rukia shot her the did-you-really-just-ask-that-question look. She frowned in confusion. "Think south of the border, Orihime," Rukia said, while Tatsuki looked back at the picture.

Orihime thought about it for a moment. South of the border…? Did she mean like…Mexican? Chad was Mexican. And so were burritos. She loved burritos! Or did she mean… "OH!" she said, finally understanding. She flushed a bit in embarrassment, hiding it with a giggle. "I see what you mean."

"Hey, Rukia…"

"Yeah?" Rukia asked, turning back to Tatsuki.

"…I think that _is _Renji," Tatsuki said slowly.

"What?" Rukia asked. "That's ridiculous! Renji's not a porn model. He definitely would've told me something like that. I mean, just look at their faces, there's bound to be some…oh, my God, you're right." She practically ripped the magazine from Tatsuki's hands, holding it even closer to her face. "That is so totally and completely Renji."

Tatsuki eyed Rukia nervously, as if she were expecting the other to blow up at any second. "And…you didn't know about that?" she asked quietly.

Rukia closed the magazine and set it down on their table, pushing it away from her. "Not a clue," she said hoarsely.

"Rukia?" Orihime asked, leaning a bit closer in anxiety. "Are you alright?"

Rukia looked up then, an angry look in her face. "No, I'm not alright." She grabbed her purse and the magazine then and stood up. "And in a few minutes, neither will Renji."

* * *

Ichigo lazily grabbed his cell phone, staring at the caller ID. It was Orihime, so he figured he'd better answer it. He punched Renji in the shoulder to get the other to shut up before flipping open the phone. "Yeah?" he said.

"Ichigo, where are you?!" Orihime's frantic voice asked.

"What?" Ichigo asked, frowning. "I'm at McDonald's with Renji and Ishida. Why?"

"You have to get out of there now!"

Ichigo laughed nervously. "Seriously, Orihime, what's wrong?"

"Rukia's going to kill Renji!"

Ichigo blinked. "Um…come again?"

Suddenly, the door to the restaurant banged open. He looked up to see Rukia standing there; he had never seen her look so absolutely furious. "I'll talk to you later," he said quickly, sliding the phone shut. He knew Orihime wouldn't be mad, but he still felt bad for hanging up on her like that. He looked over at Ishida. "I don't think I wanna be here right now," he said.

"For once, you're actually being observant, Kurosaki," Ishida said, pushing up his glasses. "But it doesn't look like she's going to let us leave." Sure enough, Rukia marched right up to their table and glared down at Renji.

"Who do you think you are?!"

Renji stared at her, looking quite confused. Ichigo couldn't help but snort; he may not have been the brightest crayon in the box, but hell, Renji was like the fucking brown crayon that no one ever used. Definitely burnt sienna. "Eh…what?" he asked.

Rukia thrust a magazine under his nose, displaying a picture of someone who was quite obviously Renji, hovering over a half-naked woman who looked, well, about ready to get _way _off. "What am I supposed to make of this?" she demanded angrily. Renji took the magazine from her, staring at the picture.

"Um…well, Rukia, I can explain," Renji started, a worried look on his face.

"What the hell is there to explain?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "You told me you worked at a candy shop!" Ichigo had to fight to cover his laughter. But apparently, he didn't cover it too well, because Rukia rounded on him next. "And you!" He looked up at her, trying to keep his face emotionless. "Did you know about this?!"

Unfortunately, he had known about Renji's little job. Seeing as how they were best friends – though sometimes Ichigo had no idea how that was possible, considering how much they argued – Renji had revealed it one night when he was depressed as hell. Of course, the red-head had made him promise not to say anything.

"Answer me!"

"It's okay, Ichigo," Renji said quietly. "Tell her the truth."

Ichigo looked over at his friend. Renji was staring down at the magazine with a disgusted look on his face, as if he couldn't believe this was happening and hated himself for it. He looked back up at Rukia's face, at the angry set of her mouth and the tears beginning to form in her eyes. That startled him; he had almost never see Rukia cry. In fact…the only time he could remember was when her sister had died when she was ten. Shit. This was actually serious. Like _really _serious.

He sighed. "Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I knew."

She paused for a second, and then turned to Ishida. "Did you know?" she asked.

Ishida looked up at her warily for a moment, before nodding his head. "I also knew."

She wheeled back around to look at Renji. "Is there anybody that _doesn't _know about this other than me?" she demanded.

"What?" Renji asked, shocked. "Of course there are people that don't know! Dammit, Rukia, it's not somethin' I go around tellin' everybody!"

"But you didn't tell me!" she persisted. "I'm your oldest friend, your best friend, your _girlfriend_ for God's sake! You couldn't even think to tell me this?!"

"Rukia, calm down, I can explain-"

"No!" she screamed at him. "I don't want to hear your explanation! I've never kept a secret from you, Renji! Not once, never! You know everything there is to know about me!"

"And you know everything there is to know about me!" Renji cried.

"Are you kidding me?!" she yelled. "This changes everything, Renji! While I thought you were selling candy to kids, you were getting all hot and sweaty with fucking prostitutes! And you do it _for a living!_ What the hell is the matter with you?! This isn't okay!"

"What do you want me to do, then, Rukia?!" he asked, exasperated. "Do you want me to quit? I'll quit!"

"I don't want you to quit," she said darkly, ripping the magazine out of his hands and stuffing it in her purse. "I don't want to ever talk to your stupid red-headed mug again." He opened his mouth to protest. "Can it!" she said, beating him to the punch. "This isn't something small, Renji. And the fact that you told them-" she pointed to Ichigo and Ishida, who were now trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, "-but I had to find out in a magazine says a lot about your priorities! So I hope you're happy!"

"Rukia!" Renji said. "Come on! I was gonna tell you!"

"When?" she demanded. "When, Renji? How long has this been going on?" He didn't answer. "Exactly!" she said, the tears spilling down her face now, making her mascara run. "You had plenty of goddamn times to tell me, and you never did! Shows how much you really care about me."

He stood up then and grabbed her elbow. "Come on, just let me talk for a minute," he said urgently, real fear on his face now.

"What the hell makes you think I want to talk to you?" she asked angrily, jerking her arm away. "Just stay away from me!" She stormed off then, the tears still streaming down her face. Renji just stood there for a moment, staring after her, before sitting down and punching the plastic table they were sitting at. It cracked rather ominously.

Ichigo looked over at Ishida, not sure of what to say, if anything. He wasn't really very good at the whole comforting thing, so he wasn't even going to try. And apparently, neither was Ishida, if the other's uncomfortable expression was something to go by. People were staring at them, too; well, more like staring at Renji. They weren't really looking at him or Ishida, thankfully.

"Dammit," Renji cursed, moving a hand up to cover his face. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

Ichigo's phone rang again just then. Ishida looked over at him almost accusatorily. He shot the bespectacled loser a glare before opening the phone. "Hello?" he asked.

"Ichigo!"

"Hey," Ichigo said, breathing a sigh of relief when he recognized Rukia's voice. "Sorry for hanging up on you earlier."

"Oh, know, I understood what was going on!" Orihime said. She sounded out of breath, as if she were running someplace. "Listen, do you know where Rukia went? Me and Tatsuki have been searching for her for forever, but we can't find her anywhere!"

"…I would try her house," Ichigo said quietly, hoping that Renji wouldn't hear him. Beside him, the red-head twitched. Well, no such luck.

"Well, we checked there a few minutes ago but the butler said he hadn't seen her!" Orihime panted. "But we'll try again!"

"Okay," he said. "Good luck." He snapped the phone shut then and slid it into his pocket. Renji was just dully staring out across the room now; obviously, the lights were on, but nobody was home. "Oi…Renji…" Renji grunted in response. "You okay, man?"

"No, I'm not okay," Renji snapped harshly. He sighed. "Ah, shit, I didn't mean to snap at ya like that." He ran a hand through his hair. "This is just so…so fucked-up."

* * *

Rangiku looked up as Orihime passed by her, dragging her new friend Nemu with along with her. "Rangiku, we're gonna go get some ice cream! We'll be back in a few minutes!" Rangiku nodded before looking over to the couch. She was only home for the night, getting some much-needed rest before heading back to the hospital in the morning. As much as she hated to admit it, Gin needed her right now, and she couldn't bring herself to say no. But when Orihime had asked if she could have a sleepover that night, she couldn't say no either.

There were only three of them tonight. Apparently, Tatsuki had a big exam in the morning. The only other girl, Rukia, was currently sitting curled up against the couch, holding a mug of hot chocolate that Orihime had made for her earlier. Her eyes were all red, like she'd been crying. Rangiku sighed as she stood up. She couldn't help it; she had a maternal instinct that didn't let her just stand by the side and watch girls get hurt.

Rukia started when she saw Rangiku sit down on the chair across from her. "What's the matter, sweetie?" Rangiku asked, smiling softly. "No offense meant, but you look like shit."

Rukia let out a watery laugh. "Yeah, well, I feel like it too," she said. She took a drink of hot chocolate before continuing. "Have you ever…been in a relationship with someone that you really, truly care about? Like, more than just lovers, but best friends?"

"You love 'em so much you'd die for 'em?" Rangiku said, nodding. "Yeah, but only once."

"I thought I could trust him…" she trailed off, shaking her head bitterly. "But…"

"Let me guess," Rangiku said softly, "he was keeping one secret from you that changed every single little facet of your relationship." Rukia looked up, startled. "Am I right, or am I right?"

"How'd you know?"

"I've been in the same situation before," Rangiku admitted. "Except I was the one who kept the secret." She sighed. "I won't give you all the details because I'm sure that right now, you probably don't really care. But the fact is, people who are in that deep of a relationship really don't keep the normal couple secrets. You know, cheating, affairs, that kind of stuff. You can keep secrets for other reasons too."

"But why?" Rukia asked miserably. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"He probably wanted to protect you," Rangiku said. "He didn't want you to know because he probably figured he could get out of it before you'd ever find out. People do some crazy things for the people they love somtimes." She snorted at the irony of it. "That's what I thought."

"What happened?"

"He…he freaked out on me," she said. "I don't know how long you've been in a relationship with this guy of yours, but I knew him my entire life. Before we were lovers, we were best friends and before that, we were playmates in the sand box. There were no secrets. When he found out – and I still don't really know how he found out – he was so angry at me. He wasn't angry about what I'd done; he was angry that I hadn't told him. So he left, stormed out. And he never came back."

"…what about…well…I mean…" Rukia trailed off, evidently unsure how to phrase her question.

"We're not together anymore," Rangiku guessed. "And to tell you the truth, it's my fault. I let him walk away. I shouldn't have." She sighed. "I don't know the situation, Rukia, but you should think about what you want to do. If it's as big as it seems to me, this isn't an argument that you can half patch up. It's all or nothing. You have to decide whether you want him in your life or not."

"Yeah…"

Suddenly, the front door burst open and Orihime and Nemu came in, their arms laden with various ice cream flavors and toppings. "We're back!" Orihime said, panting. "What kind of ice cream do you want, Rukia?"

Rangiku watched as the girls proceeded to stuff themselves with the sweet substance. She even took a few spoonfuls herself as she absently sorted through her work files on her computer. Every now and then, she'd look up to see how things were going. Currently, they were watching a movie. It wasn't a chick flick, thank God. That was the last thing any girl needed after a serious break-up. Nope. The TV was displaying what looked to be the latest version of Rambo. Nothing like blood and guts to make you forget – temporarily at least – the pain.

She slid off her barstool when there was a quiet knock at the door. She took the lollipop she'd found herself sucking on out of her mouth before she got there. When she opened it, she stopped in her tracks. Outside, in the hallway, was one of the most handsome men she'd ever seen in her entire life. He wasn't overly tall or muscular, but he radiated power like a political figure. His long black hair was neatly groomed, and every single piece of it was perfectly in place. His rather cold gray eyes stared at her for a moment, taking in her 50's style polka-dotted pinup dress and red candy-stained lips.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Are you Rangiku Matsumoto, the owner of this apartment?" he asked in a cold, but eloquently cultured voice.

"The one and only," she said, smirking.

"I need to speak with Rukia Kuchiki; I believe she's spending the night over here." It wasn't a request. It was said with the air of one who knew that his demands would be filled, no matter what. Arrogance, she thought.

"Um…and you are?"

"Byakuya Kuchiki," he said stiffly. "I'm Rukia's brother."

* * *

**So yes, tell me what you think about how the story should go!! Rangiku and Gin? Or Rangiku and Byakuya? Because those are the two that I've narrowed it down to. I can go either way and still make the story work. **

**Thanks for reading!! And don't forget to review :D  
**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hah!! I got this one out in a week!! What can I say, I write as my muses move me. Anyways, thanks to you guys for reviewing last time and telling me what you guys think!! I've made my decision (but I'm not telling you guys what's gonna happen cause I'm evil like that :D) but I think the majority of you will be happy or at least able to live with it. But I do kind of wonder...would you stop reading it if it wasn't the choice you'd like? I dunno. I just wonder about stuff like that.**

**Anyways, thanks again for all the reviews/faves/alerts!!

* * *

**

"Byakuya Kuchiki?" Rangiku repeated. "As in _the _Byakuya Kuchiki?"

"How many others do you know?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Well, none, but whatever," she said. "Why do you need to talk to her?"

"I believe that's really none of your business," he said coldly. "Is she here or not? If she is not here, then I have to no reason to waste any more time."

"Ouch, that burned," Rangiku said, frowning at him. She opened the door a bit wider. "Here come on in, I'll go and get her." She turned around and padded back down the hall, not looking back to see if he'd come inside. She knew he would eventually. And sure enough, just as she reached the kitchen, she heard the door shut softly. She walked over to the couch where the girls were sitting. She placed a hand on Rukia's shoulder, causing the young woman to jump a bit. "Rukia, there's someone here to see you."

"To see me?" Rukia asked, confused. She turned around and froze when she saw her brother standing in the kitchen, hands at the side of his black suit. "Brother?" she asked softly. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to speak with you," he said simply. He turned to Rangiku. "Is there somewhere in your apartment that we could talk privately?"

"Sure, use my room!" Orihime piped up. She had turned around now and was watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. "It's the second one on the left! Rukia knows where it is."

Rukia stood up almost numbly and walked over to the hallway, checking every now and then to see if her brother were still there. Orihime looked up at Rangiku curiously as soon as the other two were out of earshot. "What's going on, Rangiku?" she asked softly. "Why is Rukia's brother here?"

"He wanted to talk to her," Rangiku said, shrugging. "I'm guessing it's about her…break up with Renji."

"But how did he find out?" Orihime asked, frowning slightly.

"Considering that it's Byakuya Kuchiki, I think it would be relatively easy for him to find out anything," Nemu said quietly. As soon as she'd said the words, she flushed a bit, and looked up with a guilty expression. "I didn't mean to intrude."

"You're not intruding, Nemu," Rangiku said quietly, smiling. "It's an open floor."

"I just hope that Rukia's alright," Orihime said, sounding worried.

Rangiku laid a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. "Don't worry," she said. "I have a feeling that everything is going to work out." And that she did. She wasn't going to let what had happened to her happen to another happy couple. Because she could tell that Rukia and Renji weren't just your normal college couple. They were that kind of couple that you just _knew _was supposed to be together.

And she wasn't going to just sit by and let them walk away from each other.

* * *

Rukia sat down nervously on Orihime's frilly, pink bed, fidgeting with her hands. She saw her brother sit down in a chair opposite the bed. He looked rather uncomfortable in these surroundings, but he didn't say anything. She swallowed anxiously; she didn't know what she was supposed to say, what to do…she didn't even know why he was here, to be completely honest. Was it to tell her that he'd told her so, that he knew that Renji had been trouble from the start? Did he even know?

That was a stupid question. Of course he knew. There wasn't a piece of information regarding her life that he didn't know. He was always so careful about her goings-on, because of his promise to her late sister. He promised that he would take care of her. And he did, even if he didn't love her. Well, she didn't know that he didn't love her. But he never showed any sign of affection. And he never –

"I'm not going to tell you that I told you so if that is what has you looking so apprehensive," he said suddenly, his voice soft and even. She looked up at him. His face was passive, neutral. There was no expression there.

"No," she finally managed to get out, "it's not that." She looked back down at her lap.

"You are upset," he observed.

"Of course," she said, frowning. "Who in their right mind wouldn't be?"

"I never suggested otherwise," he said quietly.

"I just…" she trailed off; he waited patiently for her to continue. "I don't know why he wouldn't say anything. I wouldn't…I wouldn't have been angry. I understand that he doesn't have a lot of money and that's it has to be costing him a good deal to go to college, even with his financial aid."

"Working in that particular industry is hardly a suitable career, especially for one of your station," he pointed out dryly.

"It's only temporary," she said defensively, looking back up at her brother. "He doesn't have any other way to pay for college."

"You have mentioned that," he noted.

"And I don't have a station," she reminded him. "In fact, he and I are from the same original class. If you…if you hadn't married Hisana, I wouldn't have any station at all."

He was silent for a moment, and then answered her. "I am fully aware of that," he said, "but you are a Kuchiki now, and as such, you must remember that you do have a station in this world." She opened her mouth to snap something back at him, but he didn't give her the chance. "And as a Kuchiki, one of the most important lessons that you have ever learned is that life is hard. The good things in life are worth fighting for. And if you do not fight for them, you will not get them."

She looked up at him, her mouth falling open a little bit. He stared back at her with the same passive expression he always seemed to be wearing. "What are you saying?" she asked slowly.

"I do not know precisely what happened between you and that boy," Byakuya said slowly, looking down to fix a crease in his pants, "but I do know that he makes you happy. If there is one thing that I hope to have taught you, it is that you must work to make things the way you want them to be. I myself am a living testament to that."

She nodded slowly. Of course she understood what he was saying. He had gone against almost all of his family in order to be able to marry her sister. He had gone against all of them when he had said that he intended to make her his own legal sister. He had worked hard – perhaps due to guilt over causing such a familial disturbance – to make the Kuchiki law firm the most powerful in Japan. He had fought for everything that he had, other than his perfect face. That, of course, was due merely to luck in the gene pool.

"I don't know what I should do," she admitted, fiddling with a stray thread on Orihime's throw blanket. "But I do know that I can't just leave things this way. I…I do love him…and I do want to be with him…but I don't want him to keep secrets from me."

"You do not have to make a decision tonight," he said quietly. "But I must inform you that if you do continue on in your relationship with this boy, the family elders are going to fight you every step of the process. They will never accept him."

"The same way they never accepted me or Hisana," Rukia said. She looked up just in time to see him nod once. "I always knew they didn't like Renji. Sometimes, I have to admit, I got pleasure out of just knowing that I was making them squirm."

"I must admit that I used to elicit the same pleasure from my relationship with your sister at times," he said quietly. She looked up at him, shocked, but he wasn't looking in her direction anymore. He was looking pointedly in the other direction. "I do not approve of your relationship with him either. But…I understand what it is like to be in love with someone that your family does not approve of. I may not approve of the boy, but I will not fight you being committed to him."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"But I must say that if, after all the time you have spent with that boy, and all the hardships you endured from the elders regarding your relationship, were you to call it quits with him now, it would be rather anticlimactic."

"I realize that," she said.

He nodded then and stood up. "I shall be going now," he said. "I merely wanted to make sure that you understood the situation."

"I do," she said, standing up as well.

"Good," he said. "I shall see you tomorrow then." She forced herself to smile, even though she didn't feel like it, and walked back out with him into the main room. Rangiku looked up from where she was sitting at the counter, a curious expression on her face. "Well, I apologize for intruding upon your home like this at this hour. I shall be leaving now."

Rangiku stood up then. "I'll just walk you to the door," she said, smiling. Rukia nodded and went back over to the couch, sitting down by Orihime. Looking at the clock, she saw that she had only missed about ten minutes of the movie. Well, then, that was good. She didn't want to miss any more people getting their guts carved out.

"Are you alright?" Orihime asked, nudging her gently.

She looked over at her friend. "Yeah," she said softly. "I'm going to be fine."

* * *

"Look, I need to talk to you for a minute," Rangiku said, stepping outside her apartment and closing the door. Byakuya Kuchiki raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead standing there, calmly waiting for her to speak. "It's about Rukia."

"I assumed as much," he said stiffly.

"Listen…I know this is probably going to sound presumptuous of me, and I don't want to come off like that, but I really can't find another way to put this…" she took a deep breath, "I really think that Renji and Rukia need to get back together, and I'm going to do what I can to help the two of them, no matter what anyone else says."

He blinked rather owlishly at her. "Well, I am certainly not going to try and stop you," he said quietly.

"You're not?" she asked flatly. To be honest, she had been expecting a stay-out-of-the-family-business snuff.

"No," he affirmed. "Though I must say, I do not know how you plan on accomplishing this goal you've established for yourself."

"I know the situation Renji's in right now," she explained. "I did the wrong thing when it happened to me, so I know exactly what and what not to do."

"Oh, you know the situation," he said, nodding. "I see. And how, praytell, do you know exactly the situation he's in?"

She sighed, leaning a hand on the doorknob. "I don't think I could tell you anything that you don't already know," she said, looking up at him. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, even if you don't know the minute details. Don't make me come out and say it. I'm not going to have you pressing charges against me."

"I'm a lawyer, not a police officer," he reminded her.

"You might as well be a police officer, and you know it," she said. "You have so much clout around here, I don't know why they haven't given you the freaking key to the city hall yet." She sighed. "But that's not the point. The point is, I'm going to do what it takes to get those two back together."

"And I am going to go back to my house and forget that I ever saw you, so that I cannot 'press charges' as you so charmingly put it," he replied.

She blinked. "Well, thank you for that," she said. "Though I don't think I'm a very easy person to forget." She smiled up at him sweetly. "Good night, Mr. Kuchiki."

"Good night, Miss Matsumoto."

* * *

Kukaku took a deep breath, before stepping up to the door. She didn't know why she was doing this. She knew she was going to regret it. She knew that it wasn't going to end up the way she wanted it to. And yet, here she was, standing outside the doorstep of one man whose guts she particularly hated. She shook her head before knocking a few times and stepping back.

The door opened a few minutes later, but there wasn't anybody there. She blinked, and then looked down. To her surprise, a small girl was standing there, her vivid, bubblegum pink hair put up in pigtails. "Hi!" she said happily. "Who're you?"

"…Kukaku Shiba…" Kukaku said quietly, not sure what to make of a kid.

"Oh, I know!" the kid said, swinging the door open all the way. It hit the other wall in her enthusiasm. "You're one of Kenny's friends! He doesn't have a lot of friends because everyone's scared of him! Come on in!" Kukaku was about to decline the offer, but she found out that it wasn't much of an offer at all, but an order. The girl grabbed her hand and dragged her into the hallway; Kukaku tried to get away but, damn, she had a strong grip! She let herself be helplessly dragged along into a room that looked like an office. "Sit down!" She was pushed into a chair. "I'll go get Kenny!" And with that, the girl was gone.

Kukaku relaxed a bit and made herself comfortable. So, did this mean that Kenpachi had kids? She had to admit, he didn't seem like the fatherly type. Protective…maybe. Paternal…? No. She looked around the office, but it seemed fairly standard – desk, chairs, computer, pens, pencils. In fact, it was quite neat. Almost as if it was hardly ever used.

She looked up when she heard footsteps approaching in the outside hallway. Kenpachi strode into the office, stopping when he saw her, the same little girl perched on one of his shoulders. She giggled and pointed at Kukaku. "See, Kenny?" she said. "I told you you had a friend over!"

"What are you doing here?" Kenpachi asked, frowning. "Kinda assumed you didn't care for me too much." He moved over into the office and sat down behind the desk.

She smirked. "Well, you know what they say about people who assume," she said wryly.

"What do they say?" the girl asked. The smirk was knocked right off Kukaku's face. Kenpachi looked up at her rather blankly. She pouted then. "Oh, come on, why does everyone but me know what's going on?" To Kukaku's surprise then, she thumped the man on the head. "I wanna know what's going on, Kenny!"

He sighed and plucked her off his shoulder, setting her on the ground. "I need to talk to this lady," he said. "Go and play outside for a bit." She nodded once and then bounded out the doorway, grabbing what looked like a bucket of sidewalk chalk and a jump rope. "That's Yachiru," he said to Kukaku.

"Your…daughter?" she guessed.

"Kinda," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not by blood. I found her out in the streets one day as a baby. She didn't have any parents; stupid bastards abandoned her." He snorted, rolling his eyes. "So I took her in."

"Seems like a handful," she noted.

"She's a force of nature," he agreed. He paused for a moment, and then turned to look at her. "So, what are you doing here?"

She bit her lip in hesitation, and then finally decided to just go with it. "I came here to say thanks," she said bluntly.

"Thanks?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Dropping me off at the hospital the other day," she clarified.

He nodded. "I thought you told me that I shouldn't expect you to thank me," he said, smirking. "And then I think you called me a bastard. Or an asshole. One of the two."

She flushed. "I was mad," she muttered. "I have a bit of a temper."

"I hadn't noticed," he said dryly. "But you know, I don't know if I can forgive you." She looked up at him in surprise. "After all, I did something nice to you, and you blew me off."

"I'm saying thank you now!" she protested.

"Yeah, a week after the fact," he reminded her.

"What the hell do you expect me to do?" she demanded. "Grovel? Because if you want me to beg, you can fucking go drive off a cliff! This isn't that important to me!"

"Then why are you here?" he asked, smirking.

"Because I thought it would be a nice gesture!" she snapped. "Obviously, it's wasted on you!"

"Wait, don't leave," he said, standing up. She stopped moving towards the front door and turned around, glaring at him. "Tell you what," he said, walking over to where she stood, "how about you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night and I call us even?"

"What?" she asked flatly, her anger disappearing as fast as it had come on.

"You heard me," he said. "Or do I need to buy you a hearing aid?"

"Bite me," she said. "But are you serious?"

"I'm always serious," he informed her.

"But…why?" she asked.

"This will make us even," he repeated.

"But how will me going out to dinner with you make up for it?" she asked.

"Figure it out, sweetheart. You're not that dumb."

She scowled up at him. "Fine," she said, clenching her jaw. "Tomorrow night. Pick me up at seven. And you had better choose a good restaurant!"

"I always do," he said, smirking.

"And don't call me sweetheart!"

"Whatever."

* * *

Yoruichi waited absently for the phone to ring, fiddling nervously with the cord. She could've just used her cell phone, but there was just something nostalgic about using a land line. "Hello?"

"Soi Fon!" she said quickly, relieved that her call hadn't gone straight to voicemail. "I need to talk to you immediately!"

"Well, can it be over the phone?" Soi Fon asked. "I can't really come over right now."

"No, no, that's fine," Yoruichi said quickly. "I just want your opinion on something."

"Okay…"

She took a deep breath before taking the plunge and just coming out to say it. "Kisuke has said that he would like it if I quit working in the industry," she said quickly.

There was silence for a moment. Then… "Why?"

"He thinks I can do better," Yoruichi explained. "I'm getting to the point that I'm going to be too old for it. He said he'd be willing to teach me photography or let me help out with his business if I wanted."

"How serious are things between you two?" Soi Fon asked sharply.

Yoruichi sighed. "I…I don't know, to be honest," she said, moving to sit on the counter so she didn't have to stand. "I like Kisuke. I like him a lot. And I don't think he's like most of the men I've dated in the past. He seems…different."

"Different how?"

"Like, it just feels right when I'm with him," Yoruichi sighed. "It doesn't take any effort. I don't have to act like somebody different with him. It's just…natural, I guess."

"Well, do you want to quit?"

"He did bring up some good points," Yoruichi pointed out. "And I mean, I _am_ going to have to find another job in the next few years. I'm almost twenty-seven, after all. If I want to be able to immediately change jobs, I'm going to have to start preparing now."

"Yes, but do you want to quit? You didn't answer the question."

"I…you know I don't like this job, Soi Fon. I…I never liked it. I only did it because I didn't have many options, coming out of high school. You know that. I've been looking for a way out for years now, and I never could seem to find one that would work."

"And this time's different?"

"It seems that way!"

"Why?"

"Because now I have a reason to quit!" There was a pause then, one of those long pauses over the phone that are both very poignant and very awkward.

"Do you love him?"

Yoruichi's breath caught in her throat.

"Do you love him?" Soi Fon prompted when she didn't respond.

"I…"

"Yoruichi?"

"...I think I might."

* * *

**And we are finally getting somewhere!! I don't know long this story is going to be, but it keeps getting more and more fun to write!!**

**Reviews are, as always, much appreciated :D  
**


	11. Chapter 11

Ugh, I'm so so so so sorry!!

I honestly never intended for it to take this long for this chapter to get out. I didn't have writer's block or anything. I just...I don't know, I've just had a busy last few weeks or so. And summer is supposed to be the easy part of the year D: Oh, and this chapter isn't really read over, so there's probably some mistakes. I'm going to go back and edit this later on.

Anyways, thanks again for all the reviews/faves/alerts!!

* * *

There was quiet for a moment, absolute quiet. Yoruichi bit her bottom lip nervously, waiting for her friend to say something, anything. She knew that sometimes Soi Fon would take a moment or two to process things before finally commenting on something. Still…the silence was incredibly anxious.

"How…how sure are you about this?"

"Does the very fact that I'm considering this tell you nothing?" Yoruichi replied.

"Well, are you going to quit? I know you said you're thinking about, but I mean…are you _seriously _thinking about it, or just indulging him?"

"I'm seriously thinking about this," Yoruichi said, just as much to herself as she was to her friend. It hit her then. She was honestly considering this. She actually trusted Kisuke enough to consider what he was saying, even give it serious thought.

"Okay," Soi Fon said, letting out a breath, "I'm going to give you my opinion on this. And I don't want you to say anything. I want you to just listen, alright?"

"Okay."

"Yoruichi, I don't know that you do love him. You said that you feel comfortable with him, safe…that doesn't necessarily mean you love him. Though it could; I'll be the first to admit that I'm not the best when it comes to relationships. But what you said about the industry is right – you have to get out at some point, and this is the best opportunity you have. But…I'd still be careful around this guy."

"He's not going to do anything to me," Yoruichi said, frowning.

"I never said that," Soi Fon sighed. "But…come on, Yoruichi, he runs a porn business! You can't trust him!"

"I can too trust him," she said defensively. "And whether or not I decide to trust him is my business."

"Don't get all defensive on me," Soi Fon said warningly. "You were the one who called me wanting advice."

"…I know," Yoruichi murmured. "Sorry."

"Just…just be careful, Yoruichi," Soi Fon said cautiously. "If this turns out badly, I don't want you to get hurt."

Yoruichi snorted. "Trust me, I don't want to get hurt either," she said. "Thanks for this, Soi Fon."

"Don't worry about it. What are friends for?"

"Yeah…thanks."

* * *

"I honestly don't know what he's going to do."

Nemu blinked and looked up at Uryu, who was sitting across from her. They were working on a shared project for their molecular biology class, one of the few they shared. He'd been here for about a half-hour or so, but so far, it seemed as if he were more interested in talking about the recent goings on between Renji and Rukia. Or rather, the lack thereof.

"I don't really think it's up to him," she said quietly, flipping forward a few pages in his textbook.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well," she said, looking up at him, "so to speak, the ball is in her court now. Renji can do all he wants to try and get her back, but if she doesn't want to be with him, he can't force her."

"That's true," he admitted thoughtfully. "Do you think she'll forgive him?"

"I don't know her that well," she said, shrugging lightly. "Orihime seems to think she will, but I don't know…"

"What would you do, if you were her?"

She blinked again. "Actually, I think I would much more likely be in Renji's position," she said, smiling softly. "But were I Rukia…I would probably go and talk to him, and sort things out. It's not right for the two of them to just leave things like this, even if they don't get back together."

"So you think it's a communication problem?" he asked.

"Not really a problem," she said slowly, setting down her pencil to give him her full attention. "From what I know, they've been friends so long and gone through so much together, it's hard for there to not be any communication at well. It's more like there's a barrier there, because he kept that secret from her. You can't keep secrets from people you love."

He paused to stare at her for a moment. She fidgeted under the scrutiny, absently straightening the hem of her shirt. "Who do you empathize more with, Rukia or Renji?" he asked suddenly.

She looked up at him. "Well," she said quietly, "I sympathize more with Rukia, because she is the one who was hurt by all of this. But…I believe I naturally empathize more with Renji, just…well, because of the similarities."

"In your jobs?"

"Yes."

"Would you have hidden it?"

"No," she said. "I might not have told the truth had I just met them, but I would have eventually revealed the truth."

"Were you going to tell me the truth?"

She flushed. "Well, that would have depended on whether or not we ever became close friends," she admitted. "If we hadn't, I probably wouldn't have told you. But if we had, I would have eventually, yes."

He sighed then and closed his book. "I don't think we're going to get much work done today," he said, smiling wryly. She smiled back at him timidly before looking back down to her lap. She clenched her hands into fists to force them to stop moving. "There seems to just be too many problems with our friends."

"Yes," she agreed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She looked up then. "Of course."

"Would you consider us close friends?" he asked, watching her face carefully.

She took a moment to think about it. "Probably not," she said truthfully. "I mean, we've only really recently gotten to know each other. I would consider you a friend, probably one of my better ones, but I wouldn't say close just yet."

He nodded. "You know, sometimes I worry about you," he said, looking out the window.

"About me?" she repeated, surprised.

"You don't seem happy," he pointed out. "Every time I see you, it seems as if you're always so serious."

"Well…"

"I would like to see you be happy," he said, smiling.

"I…would like to be happy," she said stiffly.

"Then tell you what," he said, standing up. "How about we stop working for today and go out to see a movie or something? We're probably the only ones who have even opened our books for this project anyways."

"But I don't have any money with me."

"I'll pay."

"Oh, you don't have to, really!"

"My treat."

She stared up at him for a moment longer, and then nodded slowly, stepping to her feet. "You're probably right," she said. "About the project, I mean."

He laughed then. "I know I'm right. We're in a class full of idiots. Now, where's your coat?"

* * *

"No."

"Rangiku, please!" Kira said, sighing. "You're my last resort."

"Why was I on your list at all?" she asked, frowning.

"Well…I mean, you know him," Kira said defensively.

"I know him?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Kira, we dated up until two years ago when he left me without so much as a note. Sure, I know him. But what the hell makes you think I want to let him stay with me while he goes through physical therapy?"

"You're his friend!"

She looked away then, crossing her arms over her chest. "So are you," she pointed out. He stiffened then, as if she'd just pointed the major flaw in his plan – which, of course, she had. She looked up at him, her blue eyes guarded. "Tell me, Kira…are you trying to set me up with him?"

"What?!" he yelped. "Of course not!"

"I don't believe you," she said quietly.

He sighed. "Look, Rangiku, I know what he did to you was wrong," he said patiently. He sounded as if he were trying to get a sullen child to understand something. "I know that he hurt you. I can't expect you to ever forgive him. I'm not asking you that. I'm just asking if you'll let him stay in one of the spare rooms I know you have in that apartment you have. I don't have room in my apartment." She lifted an eyebrow at that. "I seriously don't."

"Oh, really?" she asked. "Why, are you living with someone?"

"Actually…well, my girlfriend and I have decided to move in together, so I'm trying to get the apartment ready," he admitted, reaching behind his head to scratch at his hair nervously.

"Your girlfriend?" Rangiku asked, smirking. "Do tell!"

"Well, her name is Momo," Kira said, flushing slightly. "We've been together for a couple of years now. I…well, I'd like to ask her to marry me, but I'm…well, I just don't want it to end badly."

"Oh, come on, Kira!" she said, hitting his arm slightly. "You're such a catch! Give it a whirl! You'll never know what'll happen if you don't put yourself out there!"

"I suppose…"

Rangiku sighed. "There's no one else he could stay with?"

"No one," he replied.

She looked up at him after a moment's contemplation. "I don't want to do this, Kira," she said, shaking her head softly. "But it doesn't seem like there's any other option. You owe me, though! You owe me big time."

"You'll do it?" he asked, surprised.

"I don't have a choice," she replied. And besides, she added internally, I don't want to see him have nowhere to go.

"Thank you, Rangiku," Kira said, sighing in relief. "You have no idea how much this means."

"I think I do," she muttered.

"He'll be ready to leave by this afternoon if you want to come pick him up," Kira continued, smiling warmly at her.

She smiled back rather wanly. "I'll be there."

* * *

Kukaku absently looked over the outfits she had selected. She hadn't been on a real, actual date in several years now. Most of what she did could only be considered one night stands, flings, or hook-ups. So she had no idea what to wear. What did people wear on a first date? Something nice? Something pretty? Something sexy? Aggravated, she yanked out her phone and dialed a number.

"Hello?"

"Oi, Rangiku, I need your help," Kukaku said.

"Okay."

"I'm going out tonight…on…on a date," Kukaku said stiffly. "And I need some help."

There was silence for a moment. And then Rangiku squealed so loudly that Kukaku had to jerk the phone away from her ear with a curse to avoid hearing damage. "Oh my God, you're going on a date?!" the blonde woman gushed. "You never go on dates!"

"Hence why I need your help."

"Okay, okay, okay, so who is it with?" the other asked excitedly.

"Do you remember that guy who owned the club I got arrested at?" Kukaku asked.

"Oh, my God, you fox!" Rangiku cried. "God, he was big. So how'd you two end up meeting after the incident?"

"Well, I left a jacket over there, so I had to go pick it up," Kukaku said, reaching down by her bedside table to pull out a cigarette. Pressing the phone against her shoulder with her head, she quickly lit it and put it in her mouth before continuing. "Only then he decided to be a royal jackass and come and give it to me himself. And then when Gin was hospitalized, he gave me a ride to the hospital. So I went over to thank him a few days ago, and he asked me out."

"…he's so into you," Rangiku said happily.

"No, he's not," Kukaku snapped, removing the cigarette long enough to breathe out the smoke. "He can see. I'm attractive. He wants to fuck me and get it over with."

"If he keeps meeting up with you like this, it's not by accident," the blonde insisted. "If a guy wants to be in your life, he'll make sure it happens. That is, if he's not terribly shy and awkward. But this guy doesn't seem like that, trust me." She broke off with a laugh.

"Fine, fine, we'll talk about that later," Kukaku said. "I just need you to tell me what to wear."

"Okay, so first date attire," Rangiku said. Her teacher voice was on, Kukaku noticed wryly. "You don't want something too sexy, because then he'll think all you're there for is sex. But you don't want something all conservative either. So your best bet is something beautiful and classic, showing a bit of skin but not too much skin, killer shoes and a tiny bit of jewelry."

Kukaku scanned her outfits and found the one that best met Rangiku's description. She had a bright red dress that she'd always loved wearing. It had two thin sleeves and cinched right under the bustline, flowing out in an empire style. She knew she looked good in red, and this dress showed off just enough skin, ending right above the knee. "How 'bout my red dress?"

"Yes!" Rangiku said quickly. "Wear that! He'll love it! And just earrings, no necklaces or bracelets. And, oh, wear those black stilettos you have! You'll kill him!"

"Hey now, I can't afford to get arrested again," Kukaku said, smirking.

"You mean, _I _can't afford for you to get arrested again," the blonde said.

"Yeah, yeah," Kukau said, knowing the other was just kidding.

"Okay, so I'll call you tomorrow and you're going to give me all the details, okay?"

"Don't have much of a choice, now do I?"

"Nope!"

"Bye, Rangiku," Kukaku said, flipping her phone shut with a grin. She picked up the dress they'd selected and held it out, studying it. She hadn't worn it in a while; she'd never had an occasion suitable for it. Taking the cigarette out of her mouth, she extinguished it in an ash tray and quickly shucked off her everyday clothes. Slipping the dress over her head, she adjusted it a bit until it was perfect. It fit like a glove; but that was a good thing.

She moved into her closet next to rummage around for the right shoes. She threw them out onto the bed when she found them .She wasn't going to put those on until she absolutely had to. God, how she hated heels. They made your legs look good, but shit, did they hurt your feet!

Normally, she wasn't one for makeup. It clogged your pores and felt so heavy and you were constantly having to reapply it unless you bought the super expensive stuff. It didn't hurt that she didn't really need a lot of it. She applied a basic coat of mascara and a little bit of liner, but that was it. Hey, this guy had already seen her at her worst. It could only get better from here.

Just as she was putting in a pair of earrings, the doorbell rang. Sighing, she went out and put on her shoes before stepping rather gingerly to the door. Her toes already felt like they were threatening to pop off her feet. She opened the door then. Standing on the other side was Kenpachi, in a dark red dress shirt and a pair of dark black jeans. He appraised her attire for a moment, and then smirked.

"Never figured you were a heels girl," he admitted.

"And you don't seem like the type to even _own _a dress shirt, let alone wear one," Kukaku sneered.

He jerked his head then. "C'mon, let's go, then."

She grabbed a purse off a nearby table – another girly invention that she didn't really care for – and locked the door behind her. To her surprise, there was an actual car waiting on the curb. "You own a car?" she asked bluntly.

"No, I stole it," he said, rolling his eyes.

She scowled at him before coming over and letting herself into the passenger's seat, not bothering to let him do it for her. She buckled herself in and then waited for him, wishing that she could have a cigarette. But she wasn't quite so rude as to smoke in someone's car without their permission.

"Ya know, I would've gotten the door for you," he said reproachfully as he stepped into the car.

"Wonderful," she muttered.

He didn't bother putting on his seatbelt. Instead, he just sped out of her driveway and turned off down the street, pushing the speed limit and making turns that should've been deadly. She had to admit, even if it were grudgingly, that he was a good driver, even if he was reckless. It took about ten minutes to get to where he was taking her. She wasn't really surprised to see that it was a steakhouse. She was surprised to find that he'd already gotten a table, and that they didn't have to wait. That was good – she absolutely hated waiting.

As they sat down at the table, a waitress came up and asked for their drink orders. "I'll just have a beer," Kenpachi said in a low voice, staring not at the waitress, but at Kukaku.

"Let me have a margarita," Kukaku said, seeing that that appeared to be the dominant drink of this particular restaurant.

As the waitress left, Kenpachi cracked an eyebrow. "With your track record, d'ya think you should be drinking?" he asked, smirking.

"You're the driver," she retorted. "Don't drink and drive."

"I'm a good driver."

"If you kill me tonight, I will personally make your afterlife hell, no matter where you end up."

He snorted. Then the waitress brought back their drinks before leaving to give them time to order. He took a swig of his beer then, his eyes challenging over the rim of the bottle. "You can try."

"Is that a challenge?" she asked, taking a sip of her own drink.

"Only if you want it to be."

She paused for a moment, and then grinned. "What the hell," she said. "I'm up for kicking your ass any day."

* * *

"The bathroom is down the hall to the right," Rangiku said, deciding to stare at the headboard instead of the face of the man across from her. "Don't bother Orihime, she's not here to be your personal servant. If you need something, get me. But I am not going to do any ridiculous crap for you. Got that?"

"Crystal clear," Gin said from the bed.

It had only been an hour or so since Rangiku had gone to retrieve him at the hospital, and already, she regretted the decision more than she cared to think about. It wasn't that he was even in one of his needy moods, either. She just didn't feel comfortable being around him anymore. He was too unpredictable; he always had been. She had used to find it attractive. Now she just found it unsettling.

She nodded at him before turning to leave. After all, she had work to do, and just because he was here didn't mean that she was going to get away with getting nothing done. "Does Orihime know?" His voice stopped her in her tracks. She slowly turned to look over her shoulder, her golden curls slightly in the way. She shook her head irritably to get them to fall.

"No," she said simply, "and I don't want you telling her either."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"It's not her business," Rangiku continued. "She doesn't need to know. I'll be out of the industry soon, and then it will just be a part of the past."

"You want to forget it?"

"Of course I want to forget it," she snapped. "Who wouldn't? It's brought nothing but bad memories since the day I first joined. The only good thing I've gotten out of this occupation is my friends."

"Do you regret…us?"

She turned around then, unable to face him. She couldn't answer him, because she didn't honestly have an answer to give him. She didn't know what she felt. On one hand, she wanted to forget, wanted to forget everything about him and move on, find a nice husband and have a new life. But on the other hand, it was hard to just drop everything, especially when he had been a part of her life for so long. She just didn't know.

And so she left him, without an answer.

* * *

"Fuck!"

Kukaku cursed as she accidentally slammed the door on her foot. Wincing, she pulled it back, only to have Kenpachi slam her against the close, effectively closing it. Before she could let out any other curse, his mouth was on hers again, his body pressed close enough that she could feel how hot he was, how much he wanted her. She kissed him back fervently, her purse falling to the floor. In the back of her mind, she knew that she was drunk, and that he was too, but her body didn't seem to be following that particular part.

She pushed back against him, steering him absently towards where she remembered the bed being. His large hands were splayed against her back, one sliding down towards her ass while the other pushed her closer into him. Her own hands were busy unfastening the buttons on his shirt. Why were their so many buttons? Snaps would've been much easier.

Once the buttons were done, he helped her get off the shirt, before his hands moved to the sleeves of her dress, pushing them down off her shoulders so that the fabric slipped to her waist. He easily reached behind her and snapped off her bra before moving a hand forward to caress the flesh he'd just exposed. She moaned and arched into him.

"God, that's good," she panted out.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yes!"

She pulled back then and let the rest of the dress slide off her frame before reaching down to tear the straps off the god forsaken stilettos she'd forced herself to wear. Once she was naked, she slithered back over to where he'd taken a seat on the beat, sitting down in his lap. Grabbing him by his hair, she kissed him deeply, prying his mouth open with her tongue.

He made a noise of appreciation in the back of his throat, his hands at her hips. His grip was bruisingly tight, but she loved it. She loved it when guys were rough; it wasn't her thing to have a guy be gentle and sweet. She preferred the more animalistic, primal side of it.

Soon enough, she had helped him out of his belt and pants and found herself lying on her back on the bed, his mouth attached to one of her breasts. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this. She knew she would regret it in the morning. But it just felt so damn good. Finally, she seemed to have a partner that wanted the same things she did in sex.

And she just didn't give a damn.

* * *

So, lots went on here. Or at least, I think so. Finally, there's a scene that's at least partly worthy of being M (though I'd probably classify it as T). But there will be more to come later.

Thanks for reading!! Comments/reviews are much appreciated :D


	12. Chapter 12

Yikes. So sorry it took this long to get this out.

I got caught up in finishing one of my other stories, and then school started, and I've had cross country practice every day and now meets have started...and yeah, it's just been a busy few weeks. I haven't forgotten this story though. It's still being written. I could never just cancel it; I think I'm trying to convey a message with this story, that love isn't always normal, that it isn't perfect. And that there's a definite dark side to it. Of course, I'm only basing this off of what I know of the pornography industry in the area I live. It might be different in other places, or depicted differently on TV. This is just what I've experienced.

Also. Lol, a lot of the reviews for last chapter were about the Gin x Rangiku vs. Byakuya vs. Rangiku issue. Hehe, that issue won't be resolved until a much later date, so don't think that one pairing is the final one just because of something you read now!! It'll all become clearer as the story goes on.

Thanks again for the reviews/faves/alerts!!

* * *

It felt like there was an elephant in her head, stomping around like mad on a crate of lit dynamite with police sirens wailing in the background. Or at least, that was how Kukaku felt this morning – head splitting, body aching, and to make matters worse, it was raining. She groaned and plunged her head deeper into the pillow she was currently clinging to, hoping that perhaps the noise would go away. To her disdain, it didn't. Instead, it only got worse when her cell phone went off. Cursing, she reached over to the night stand, fumbled around a bit until she found her phone and then dragged it to her ear.

"What?" she whined.

"Where are you?"

"Rangiku?" Kukaku guessed.

"Yes, it's Rangiku!" the other woman snapped, sounding somewhat annoyed. "Where the hell are you?!"

"Mmmm, don't yell," Kukaku said, cradling her head with her free hand. "It's too early."

"…are you hungover?"

"There's a very good possibility," Kukaku muttered.

Rangiku sighed. "Fine, I'll come and get you," she said. "And I'll bring my magical hangover remedy too! But you are going to drink it, whether you like it or not!" Kukaku winced – she hated Rangiku's solution to hangovers. She didn't know what was in it, and quite frankly, didn't _want _to know, but all she cared was that it tasted like shit, burned like acid and smelled like a decaying corpse. "Be ready in half an hour."

Kukaku grunted in response and snapped her phone shut, chucking it back onto the nearby table. With another grunt, she managed to get onto her back and actually open her eyes. She instantly shut them again, the light too much just yet. After a minute or so, she tried again and had a bit more success. Sitting up was her next obstacle. But once she was up, she was able to stand up and then drag herself into the bathroom, performing all her morning necessities. She skipped the shower; her hair was so dry it took a few days to look really nasty. And quite honestly, hot water pounding in her ears did not sound too appealing.

She dressed in a rather loose tank top and a pair of knee-length cotton shorts, only just barely dragged a brush through her tangled hair and didn't even bother with make-up. She knew she looked like shit. But that's why good photographers had make-up specialists with them. As she stumbled back out into the bedroom, she froze.

"Shit," she muttered, staring at the lump on the other side of the bed. She'd forgotten all about him. What was she going to do? She had to get him out of here, and fast. She didn't want Rangiku to see him and start drilling her for details. But he looked pretty out of it. She made her way over to him and shook him roughly by the shoulder. "Oi," she said, her voice a bit hoarse, "wake up!" He grunted a bit, but made no move to get out of the bed. Frowning, she shook him a bit harder. "Wake up!" There was still no real response.

"That's it," she said, punching him hard in the jaw. Instantly, his eyes flew open, staring up at her murderously. She pulled back and crossed her arms over her chest. "You. Out. Now."

"What the fuck's the matter with you?" he asked groggily, rubbing his jaw as he sat up. She knew that she hadn't actually hurt him, so she didn't feel guilty. He looked over at the clock. "It's not even noon yet."

"I know that," she snapped tersely, putting a hand to her temple to attempt to alleviate the pain in her head. "But I have to work. So you have to go. Now."

He made a grunting noise and stood up, fumbling around for his own clothes while she pointedly looked away as if they hadn't just had sex last night. And that was another problem. She'd had sex with this guy last night. Sex. Not just kissing or making out or touching – sex. She didn't even want to think about that right now. It was all too complicated and her brain was still a jumble from last night's alcohol. She slipped on a pair of shoes as she walked to the door after her guest. He stopped right after he opened the door and turned around to face her.

"So what now?" he asked quietly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You go outside and go back home," she snapped. "What the fuck else?"

He snorted. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he replied.

"I…I don't know," she said defensively. "And I don't have time to think right now."

"Well, think about it," he said, cracking a rough smile for the first time that morning. "And when you figure out what you wanna do – you come see me."

"Whatever, just go," she said, shooing him out the door before Rangiku arrived. She watched as he got in his car and drove off before heading back into her house. She barely made it to a chair before slumping down and burying her head in her hands.

She groaned. This was exactly the kind of thing she'd been afraid would happen; she was never good when it came to relationships. Her longest had been…what was it…two months? She just wasn't good at interacting with people, especially in relationships where it wasn't just about her. She was honestly lucky that she had as many good friends as she did.

She wasn't sure what to think of what had happened last night. Kenpachi wasn't like the other guys she'd been with in the past – he was much more sure of himself, much more obviously an alpha male. He was a guy that could hold his own against her – a lot of men in her past hadn't been able to stand up to her. And he was a guy that she absolutely couldn't read. That was made this whole situation so dangerous.

* * *

"I can't believe they're still not talking to each other," Ichigo said rather bluntly, staring at the page of calculus problems he was supposed to be completing. Renji and Rukia had been apart for almost a week and a half now, and it didn't seem as if they were inclined to get back together anytime soon. To be honest, it was annoying as hell. It was obvious to everyone else that they were meant to be together, and were being incredibly stupid about the whole thing. Or at least, that was how it seemed to Ichigo.

"I feel so bad for them," Orihime said quietly, taking a sip of her chocolate-strawberry-banana milkshake. "Rukia's been so sad lately…"

"What do you mean?" Ichigo said, frowning. This was the first time he'd heard of this; sure, Renji was acting like a kicked puppy, and he wasn't functioning at one hundred percent, but he was still at least putting up a semblance of living. He wouldn't act sad around him or Ishida; you could still see it in his eyes though, and he was quieter than he normally was.

"She's so quiet," Orihime replied, looking up at him with her big gray eyes. "She doesn't talk to anyone really, unless they ask her something first."

"Is it that bad?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Sometimes it looks like she wants to burst out crying, but she never does," she continued. "I've tried to talk to her about it, but she doesn't want to think about it at all. She always changes the subject."

"She does that a lot," Ichigo confirmed, thinking of times in his past where Rukia hadn't wanted to talk about her own problems. She was very good at changing the subject, because you didn't realize what had happened until you were already talking about the weather. She did it to him all the time. He thought it was some secret, wealthy Kuchiki training administered by her brother. "She's strong though. This won't break her."

"I know," she said, taking another drink of her milkshake. "I just wish that I could do something."

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "Have you tried making her listen?" he asked.

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Corner her," Ichigo explained. "Don't let her change the subject. Keep asking her questions until she gets so frustrated that it just comes out. That generally works."

Orihime frowned. "I can't do that, Ichigo," she said quietly. "That's not very nice."

"Sometimes you can't be nice," he pointed out.

She sighed, her bottom lip pouting out and making her look adorable. "I can't not be nice to her," she persisted. "She's one of my best friends, Ichigo."

"I know," he said. He hadn't thought that Orihime would agree to do what he'd suggested – it wasn't in her character. She was too nice, far too sweet to ever do something so drastic. Unless of course she believed that there was no other option. "But we have to do something."

"Like what?"

"I dunno," he said with a sigh. "I…I just dunno."

* * *

"You're rather quiet today," Nanao observed quietly, watching Shunsui from across the table. And indeed he was. Instead of chatting amiably, as he normally would've been doing, he was sitting contentedly, staring up at the paintings that decorated the small restaurant they had gone to for lunch. It was rather odd to her; she'd never seen him looking so contemplative.

"I'm just looking," he replied. "You know…whenever I see paintings like these, I always wonder what was going on in the painter's mind when they were working on it."

She blinked. Well, that was unexpectedly philosophical. "I would assume they're focusing on what they plan on painting," she said dryly.

He chuckled at that. "Quite logical, aren't you, Nanao-chan?" he asked. She flushed at the nickname. He'd started to call her that recently, and while she didn't _not _like it, it was somewhat embarrassing. She'd never had anyone give her a pet name before. It was either Nanao, or Miss Ise, or sometimes, just Ise. Never Nanao-chan. She was brought out of her thoughts when he sighed. "No, what I meant to say is that I wonder what makes the painters paint what they paint. What their inspiration is, I suppose."

Her dark blue eyes flicked over to the painting he was currently studying. It was a scene from nature, a pond with a waterfall falling down into it, to be precise. "Probably a similar scene that was real," she answered just as succinctly.

"It must have been a moving experience, seeing that little lake."

"What?" Since when were small bodies of water profound?

"Well, that scene in nature is probably nothing special," he explained. "In all probability, there are hundreds of places like that that exist all over the world. But what was so special about that one that made the artist want to paint it? What's the big deal about this scene?"

She studied him uncertainly. "Are you sure you're feeling alright?" she asked hesitantly.

He blinked owlishly at her. "Do I look sick?" he asked, surprised.

"No…you're just usually not this serious," she replied slowly.

He chuckled at her again. "I can't be a goofball all the time, Nanao-chan!" he exclaimed. "Think of what my customers would say!"

"Have you heard what they say already?" she muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I see. So how is that friend of yours doing…the blonde one?"

"Rangiku?"

"Yes, that one!" Shunsui exclaimed. "She seemed like a very nice young lady." Nanao had introduced the two of them a little earlier in the week when he'd dropped her off at a photo shoot after a lunch date. She'd been nervous to see how he would respond to her friends – most of whom were flirtatious and somewhat scandalous compared to her – but her fears had been unfounded. While he seemed to genuinely like Rangiku as a person, he'd expressed absolutely no other interest in her and her…assets.

"She's…alright," Nanao said, glossing over the subject. That wasn't the truth. Rangiku appeared to be fine, but all of her close friends could tell that she was having some difficulty over Operation Silver, as they had jokingly called the situation with Gin. On one hand, Rangiku loved helping people – she was a very maternal person, even if it was tough love. She felt compelled to help Gin, despite how much he'd hurt her in the past. But at the same time, every time that she saw him, he reminded her of that past. Nanao was glad she wasn't in that kind of situation.

"You hesitated," he pointed out. "Doesn't seem very convincing to me."

"Well…it's not really my place to say what's going on with her," Nanao admitted, fidgeting with the napkin in her lap as she thought of exactly what to say.

"That don't say anything," he suggested.

She nodded once in agreement, and then cleared her throat quickly. "So! How's business?"

* * *

Rangiku scowled at the man across the room from her. "Get it yourself," she snapped, going back to calculating sums in her work notebook.

"I'm an invalid," he reminded her.

They had been having these kinds of little tiffs for the past few days Gin had been living here. It was never over anything major, and she was pretty sure that he was just doing it to annoy her. He was doing a rather good job of it as well. Today, it was to fetch a pair of socks for his cold feet – a pair of socks lying on the foot of the very bed he was lying on.

"I don't care," she said. "The doctor said you can move. Those socks aren't three feet from your ass. Do it yourself."

"You're so cruel!" he whined. "The nurses would do anything I wanted!"

"Do I look like a nurse to you?" she asked.

"You'd be a very sexy nurse."

She couldn't help but snort at that. "Since sexiness is such a qualification for being good at nursing," she muttered. She punched a few buttons on her calculator before writing down a few figures. Things were looking good – this month had been particularly lucrative for their little group. She would have enough money left over to slip a little bit of extra into Nemu's account. The four elder women in the group had decided to help Nemu in whatever way possible – to protect her, if you will. They did whatever they could to help. And since bills and paychecks were already on the way, the extra money could just manage to slip into the girl's account.

"What are you doing?" a curious voice asked.

"Working," she replied instantly.

"Since when does being a porn star involve crunching numbers?"

She looked up at him. He had a surprisingly serious look on his face, as if he were genuinely interested in what she was saying. She noticed then that the grievous socks were in his hands. Stupid bastard. "I'm the manager," she said evenly. "I have to do this, or it won't get done. It's not like we're just given a wad of cash for our services. There are bills." He nodded once before looking away. She stared down at the socks in his hands, wondering if he was ever going to put them on. "You know-"

She jerked as the phone rang suddenly. Stiffly, she put down her pad of paper and pen and stood up, going towards the phone on the dresser. "Hello?" she asked after she'd put the device to her ear.

"Yes, is this Miss Rangiku Matsumoto?" a cool, dignified voice asked.

"Yes," Rangiku answered slowly. "May I ask who's calling?"

"This is Byakuya Kuchiki," the voice replied coolly. "I believe that we met a few nights ago when I came to visit my sister, Rukia."

"Oh yeah, stiff guy in a suit," she said teasingly, not able to resist the smirk on her face. "What can I do for you, pal?" She leaned against the dresser, thoroughly enjoying both the interested-but-trying-not-to-look-interested look on Gin's face to the irritation at being addressed so informally that she was sure Kuchiki was feeling.

"I need you to speak with Rukia."

Rangiku frowned. That sentence had not been intonated as a request, but as a statement of fact. "Excuse me?" she asked, frowning.

The man sighed. "She is still feeling bad about the situation with her previous boyfriend," he explained, "And I cannot seem to shake her from it. Her friends have tried to talk to her, but it does not seem as if she is listening to them either."

"So you and her friends can't get her to talk, but you think_ I_ can?" she asked skeptically.

"You have been in a similar situation, according to her."

Ah. Yes. There it was. "Ah, so she told you that," she said. She sighed. "Well, I don't know how much help I'll be, to be honest."

"Your services would not have to be administered for free."

She snorted. "You think I'd take your money like that?" she asked. "I'm not that desperate. Trust me, if – and when I say if, I truly mean _if _– I do this, it won't be for your money. It'll be because I want to."

"Then you are willing to do it?" he asked, ignoring her previous question.

"I never said that," she reminded him.

There was a light sigh from the other end. "Then what exactly are you saying?"

"How bad is she?"

There was a pause. "She…at this point, it is safe to say that it is not looking good," he replied somewhat guardedly.

Rangiku thought about it for a moment, and then made a split-second decision. "I'm not making any promises," she warned him. "I'll say what I have to say, but there's a good chance that she still won't listen to me. Hell knows I didn't listen to anyone at that age."

He sighed again, this time in what sounded like relief. "Thank you," he said curtly. "Should I arrange a meeting time?"

"Let me do that," she said, smiling. She had a feeling that if he tried to set something up, it would fall through, no matter how good he was at business. He didn't seem like a guy who understood personal matters very much. At least, he didn't seem to when it came to Rukia.

"Alright," he agreed, a tad reluctant.

"So…see ya later, tight-ass," she said, smirking. He made a sound of disapproval and she was rather tersely dismissed. Cackling to herself, she ended the call and set the phone down on the stand. She sighed then and went back over to her work.

"Who was that?"

She looked up at the sharp voice. To her surprise, Gin was staring at her, a frown on his face. That was strange – normally, he never frowned. In fact, she could probably have counted the times she'd seen him frown on one hand. "An…acquaintance," she said, giving Byakuya the best term she could think of. It wasn't really like they had a relationship or any kind.

"Just an acquaintance?"

She frowned suspiciously, and then broke out into a victorious smirk. Finally – she had something over him. She could use this to make him shut up. "What, jealous?" she snickered.

"Of course not," he said, miffed. "I was just curious."

She smiled. "I see how it is."

* * *

Yoruichi stormed out of the building, clutching her clothes to her chest and shaking with anger. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't fucking believe it. She could hear the photographer yelling out from behind, telling her that it wasn't a big deal and that they could work through this. But she knew that wasn't true. They couldn't work through this. This was it. She wasn't an object, and she refused to be seen as one.

She stomped over to her car, ignoring the rain pelting down, and got inside, locking the doors after she'd thrown her clothes down on the seat. Without thinking, she started the car up and sped out of the parking lot, unconsciously knowing where to go. It wasn't until she'd gotten about ten minutes down the road that the tears came. Swerving almost off the road, she managed to pull onto the shoulder and put the car into park. She wiped furiously at her face, both surprised and disgusted with herself for being so weak.

It wasn't anything that she hadn't heard before – the objective treatment, the conversations spoken as if she wasn't ten feet away, the lack of intimacy in the workplace. To be honest, she was just tired of dealing with it all. It wasn't any harder than it had been when she'd starting this job – but it seemed now all the worse.

Managing to get her tears under control, she pulled back out onto the road and continued driving along. She knew where she was going. And it wasn't home either – she didn't want to be alone right now. After about ten minutes, she pulled into the small parking lot and turned off her car. She didn't even bother grabbing her clothes, instead choosing to stay in the scanty clothes she had technically stolen from the photographer. Not that that mattered to her.

She rang the bell furiously, not caring that it was late at night and people were probably sleeping. A light flickered on in the back and she let up, stepping back from the doorway a bit as she wiped the tearstains off her face as best as she could. A few moments later, the door slid open, revealing Kisuke in a pair of loose pajamas.

He blinked when he saw her. "Yoruichi?" he asked. "What…what happened to you?" He stepped forward and grabbed her arm, dragging her inside the building. Instantly, she sank down onto a stool as he went to retrieve a towel. When he came back, she took it gratefully, wiping herself off. He sat down on the stool next to hers, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm done."

He blinked in confusion. "Done?" he repeated.

"With this job," she said hoarsely. "I'm done. It's over. No more. I'm not going back there again."

"Did something happen?" he asked slowly.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said stubbornly.

"Alright," he replied after a moment. He stood up then and offered her a hand, which she gratefully took. "Do you want to call Rangiku?"

She shook her head. "I don't want to talk to her right now, either," she said quietly.

"Then what do you want to do?"

She paused. "Can…Can I stay here tonight?" she asked.

"Of course," he said instantly. "Do you want to shower first?" She nodded gratefully, and he led her to one of the bathrooms. He left her then to go and get something to eat. She turned the faucets on and stripped off her clothing while waiting for the water to get hot. He'd left her a spare t-shirt that she could sleep in. Once the water was to her liking, she stepped under the spray of the shower, letting the almost scalding water pelt against her skin.

She let it flatten her violet hair to her skull, let it cleanse the salty trails on her cheeks. She grabbed a bar of soap and started scrubbing at her skin. It started to hurt, but she didn't really feel the pain. Or at least, it didn't register. She didn't care. She was scrubbing away all the troubles she'd had in the past, and they were swirling down the drain.

She was free.

* * *

So yes. I don't know how good this chapter was. I really wanted to give you guys something, since it's been like...a month and a half. Hopefully it wasn't COMPLETE crap.

Don't forget to review!! =D


	13. Chapter 13

So...what is there to say, really?

He he. I got a little busy with college, dating, being a college athlete, having a job, getting engaged...you name it. But I'm back! Hopefully. I was reading fanfiction for another anime that I recently got into (The Betrayal Knows my Name/Uraboku) and it really made me fall in love with anime again. But the fanfiction was pretty terrible! So I went and read some of my old stuff to see if mine was so terrible too. Hopefully it isn't.

Regardless, I feel obligated to finish the old stories that I had already gotten deep into. Like this one. So I will be attempting to finish this one over the summer break. Luckily, this chapter was mostly completed from the last time I was writing it.

Hopefully you enjoy! As always, please review, and my sincerest apologies for making people wait! I hope people aren't too mad (though I understand if you are)!

* * *

Rangiku blinked. "Repeat please," she said.

"I'm leaving."

Rangiku frowned. The words didn't sound any better the second time. If anything, they sounded…more final. Sitting across from her desk at work was Yoruichi, her hands in her lap and a calm expression on her face. "You're leaving as in you're moving to Mexico or you're leaving as in this is your two weeks notice?"

Yoruichi raised an eyebrow. "Why would I go to Mexico?" she asked, confused.

Rangiku shook her head, her blonde hair threatening to fly out of its precarious tie. "I don't know, it was the first place that came to mind," she said dismissively. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do," Yoruichi said quietly. She sighed. "I can't work like this anymore. I thought I could make it last for a little while until I could find something else to do. But…that isn't going to happen." She looked up, her golden eyes apologetic. "I know this screws up your plans. I'm sorry about that."

Rangiku snorted. "Please," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm more concerned about you than business. You're only my best friend."

Yoruichi smiled a bit at that. "Thanks for understanding, Rangiku," she said.

"There's nothing to understand," Rangiku replied, leaning back in her chair. "We're all going to snap at some point and get out of this business. I've already talked to Kukaku about it. The three of us aren't getting any younger. Nemu will probably stay until she gets out of college; then she'll be able to support herself. Nanao…I really don't know about her, honestly, but I can't see her enjoying this job."

"What are you going to do when you quit?" Yoruichi asked curiously.

"I have no idea," Rangiku answered blithely, smiling.

"Oh, come on," Yoruichi said. "I don't believe that for a minute. You've always got something else up your sleeve."

"Perhaps, but today I am wearing a tank top, so for the moment, I'm free," Rangiku said, smirking. Yoruichi rolled her eyes at her, but she just giggled. "And besides, it's not like you've got anything else to do."

"Actually…I do," Yoruichi said.

Rangiku blinked and then sat up straight in surprise. "What?" she asked.

"Well, you know Kisuke?" Yoruichi asked. Rangiku gave her a "no shit" expression and she continued. "He's agreed to teach me photography."

"So…you're going to go from porn star model to porn star photographer?" Rangiku asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, of course not," Yoruichi said, frowning. "Just because he happens to shoot porn doesn't mean he can't use a camera. I'm more interested in portraiture, that kind of thing."

"Portraiture?" Rangiku repeated, whistling. "Sounds fancy."

"Well, I did use to be nobility," Yoruichi reminded her, smirking.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Rangiku replied. She eyed her friend suspiciously, innately sensing that there was something she was missing. "What's going on with you two anyways?" she asked. Yoruichi stiffened a bit as soon as the question left her lips. "I know you've always gotten on well with him, but you seem awfully…chummy lately."

Yoruichi snorted, breaking her tense posture. "Chummy?" she repeated. "That's a weird way to phrase it."

"So then correct me."

"Well…he's…I suppose you could say that we're…lovers?"

Rangiku blinked, processing the information. And then she squealed and stood up quickly, sending her chair crashing back against the wall as she flew around the desk to give her friend a huge hug. It had finally happened! Yoruichi was famous for her abstinence from serious relationships. Kukaku had flings, Nanao had dates, Rangiku…well she was a different story, but out of all of them, Yoruichi was unique in her ability to keep her relationships low key. She hadn't referred to anyone as her "lover" in quite a while. In fact, Rangiku couldn't even remember the last time the other had said it at all.

"When did this happen?!" she exclaimed.

"Let me go and I'll tell you!" Yoruichi gasped out.

"Oh, sorry!" Rangiku giggled as she pulled back and sat on the edge of the desk.

"Eh, it's okay," Yoruichi said, shooting her a smile. "So, you know the two of us have been having sex for a while now, after the photo shoots?" Rangiku shot her a blank look. "I…guess not."

"Remind me to punish you for not telling me sometime," Rangiku said, smirking. "But go on, details – now."

"Well, for some time now, I've had this weird feeling," Yoruichi continued, her gaze growing distant. "I don't know how to describe it…or at least, I didn't. But even though I hadn't figured it out yet, I knew one thing – that I wanted to be with Kisuke. So I talked to him about it, and he agreed. I suppose you could say we're dating. But…after I ran out on the last session…I couldn't go home. I didn't want to be alone. I needed someone to be there for me."

"And so you went to him," Rangiku finished for her, smiling serenely. Yoruichi nodded.

"Are you moving in with him?"

"Oh, God, I have no idea," Yoruichi said dismissively. "We've only really just begun to date, you know? I think it's way too early to talk about moving in together."

"But you've been having sex for a while," Rangiku said bluntly.

"Yes, so?"

"Um…obviously, you're pretty comfortable with each other."

"Well, yes, but sex doesn't really require any effort. I mean, you take your clothes off, do it, sleep, wake up and get dressed and leave," Yoruichi said. "Relationships take real work. It's not as simple. We don't even know how long this is going to last."

"It's going to last," Rangiku said, smiling.

"How do you know?"

"Trust me," she said. "I know these things."

* * *

It was hard for Nanao to decide what she was madder about – the fact that her white clothes were now tinged pink, or the fact that it was her fault they were that way. She stared down at the pile of laundry furiously. What was she going to do now? She didn't wear pink – it was far too feminine, too frilly. But she didn't have enough money lying around to just go out and buy new clothes. It was really quite a predicament. She still hadn't made up her mind when the doorbell rang. Sighing, she left her bedroom and padded down the hall to the door.

It was Shunsui. He presented her with a lovely bouquet of flowers, which she accepted somewhat apathetically. She didn't invite him into the apartment, but left the door open; he took the hint, and walked in behind her as she set the flowers haphazardly into a spare cup and filled it halfway with water. She set them near the window over the kitchen sink before turning around. She was intent on getting back to the bedroom, but the look on Shunsui's face stopped her.

"What?" she asked.

"You seem upset," he noted, frowning.

She rolled her eyes. "Well, aren't you observant," she muttered.

"Did I do something to upset you?" he asked. She didn't respond, not knowing how to tell him that she was upset –but over something entirely stupid. She tended to do that. She was a perfectionist; she liked things to be the way she was used to them being. She liked order and neatness and logic. And when she didn't get her way, she got angry. "I'm sorry for coming over unannounced, if that's what has you upset. I can…leave if you'd like."

"No," she said, sighing. "It's not you." He stared at her in confusion, as if wondering what else it could be. She walked forward with another sigh, grabbing his arm and leading him down to the bedroom. "It's this." She flung open the door and let him see the pile of ruined clothing.

"Your bedroom?" he asked slyly. "Why, Nanao, this is quite forward of you-"

"Shut up," she snapped. "That's not what I'm doing, and you know it." She pointed to the clothes. "There. See? They're ruined."

He stepped forward to inspect the pile of clothing. She studied his back for the few minutes he spent looking at the pink garments. When he turned around, there was a smile on his face. "Did you do this?" he asked, fighting to hide his amusement.

She shot him a withering glare.

"This isn't funny," she said, clenching her teeth.

"Of course it's not," he agreed, biting his lower lip to hide his smile. But she wasn't fooled – the corners of his lips were twitching furiously.

She made a noise of frustration and stomped over to the bed, picking up random pieces of clothing and throwing them into sloppy piles – underwear, bras, t-shirts, shorts. She didn't really know why she was so terribly mad. Part of her was trying to tell her that it was just laundry; technically, she could go to a store and buy a six pack of plain underwear for a pretty cheap price. But she hated admitting that she was wrong, that she had failed – even if it was just failing at laundry.

She jumped slightly when she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her waist. At first, she tried to resist, pushing him away. She was in no mood to deal with him. But he was persistent and didn't let go. "Why are you so upset?" he murmured. His breath made her hair fan out against her cheek.

"Now I have to go buy all new clothes," she snapped, letting the article in her hands fall.

"Do you not have the money?"

"No, it's not that," she admitted.

"Then what is it?" he asked. "What has my sweet little Nanao so flustered?"

"Don't call me that," she replied automatically.

"Your name?" he asked, chuckling. "You don't want me to call you by your name?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"Oh, I suppose. So continue. What were you going to say?"

"I don't want to admit that I did something wrong," she said quietly. "I hate being wrong, and I hate failure."

He was silent for a moment, and then he turned her around to face him. He was smiling, a warm knowing smile that made her heat beat faster so matter how stupid she told herself it was. "No one is right all the time," he said.

"I am perfectly aware of that," she said, glaring at him.

"Then why can't you accept it?"

"I can too accept-"

"Clearly, you can't."

She blinked at him. Well, he had her stumped there. There was no witty response to that, so she settled for making a face at him.

"Failure is inevitable," he said. "You have to learn to deal with it."

"I don't want to deal with it."

"Why not?"

"Because that makes me weak," she said automatically. She didn't register what she'd said until the words had left her mouth, had never really even thought about it that way. But as soon as she spoke them into existence, she knew they were true. Why did she hate being wrong? Why did she hate failure? Because it made her weak. And she didn't want to appear weak. She couldn't appear weak. If she was weak, she would break. And that could not be allowed to happen.

He smiled. "You? Weak?" He snorted. "You're as far from weak as possible."

"Failure makes you weak," she insisted, shaking her head.

"No, it doesn't." He pulled her into a hug then, a hug she let herself be drawn into. There was really no avoiding it anyways. He didn't say anything for a while, and she didn't contradict him – verbally, at least. He could say whatever he wanted, but removing years and years of a belief took a lot longer than a few moments. He pulled away then, and held her at arm's length, looking her straight in the eye, a smile on his face.

"It makes you human."

* * *

"I dunno if this is gonna work, Orihime," Ichigo said skeptically, looking around the gym lobby anxiously. He didn't want Renji to show up and scare off Rukia, who was currently off buying a bottle of water from a machine down the hall.

"It will," the red-head said intently, nodding once for emphasis. "I planned it all out!"

Ichigo sighed. Orihime had come up with a plan to get Renji and Rukia together somewhere, and then block off all exits. She reasoned that if you were to put the two of them together for a long enough period of time, they would work things out. Ichigo had suggested that they also might kill each other, but she hadn't listened to him.

Phase one of the plan was in progress. Orihime had invited Rukia along to go swimming. Rukia hadn't wanted to come, but Orihime had whined and begged and pleaded and finally the dark-haired girl had relented. Orihime was going to take her to the lockers as soon as Rukia got there. Since this gym was small, it had nice facilities – but co-ed lockers. And there was only one entrance to the smallest locker room by the pools. The plan was to lock the both of them in there and then make it look like the room was closed for repairs. Orihime thought it was foolproof. Ichigo thought it was moronic.

"Oh, there she comes!" Orihime whispered furiously. Ichigo looked up; sure enough, Rukia was walking back towards them, the water in her hands. He looked back down as Orihime grabbed his wrists in a vice-grip. "Don't forget what to do!"

"I won't," he replied, rolling his eyes. "We went over it a hundred times."

She smiled brilliantly at him. "Thanks for doing this, Ichigo," she said. "It means a lot."

He couldn't help but smile back at her. When she flashed that smile at him…that was his weakness. If she smiled like that, he would do anything for her. Just to see that expression on her already beautiful face. As much as he hated to admit it, he had it bad for her.

"C'mon, Rukia, let's go change!" Orihime said, standing up and grabbing a hold of the other woman's arm. "See you later, Ichigo!" she threw back over her shoulder as she steered them both back towards the pool.

Ichigo sighed and looked towards the doors. He'd told Renji to meet him here at three. It was now two fifty-eight. He really hoped that for once in his life the red-headed moron would be on time. If he wasn't, the plan really might fail. Of course, he thought it'd fail anyways, but he'd do it for Orihime. This time, at least, the plan was just totally far-fetched. It _could_ actually work.

He stood up when Renji barged into the gym, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked around the lobby once and then strode over to Ichigo. "Yo, Ichigo," he said, cocking his head back slightly. "Do ya know how fuckin' far this gym is from, oh, I dunno, _everything else?" _He scowled down at Ichigo; Ichigo had always resented that slight difference in height between them. Renji knew it bugged Ichigo when he exploited that; so naturally, he did it as often as possible.

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped. "Let's go." He started walking towards the back of the gym, surprisingly nervous. What if it didn't work out? What if something went wrong? He knew that that was very likely to happen, but he'd never really considered the consequences until now. Renji and Rukia would both be pissed at him.

He led Renji through the building to where the locker rooms were. Renji muttered darkly the entire way about the stupidity of gyms and gym memberships and the people who used them. Ichigo couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Will you shut up?" he demanded, stuffing his fists in his pockets.

"Can't help it," Renji snapped. "Tch! That woman just did a bicep curl with a two pound weight! What the fuck?! Her gym bag's heavier than that!"

"Let it go," Ichigo suggested. He pushed open the door to the locker room. Renji followed, walking in a little ways before claiming a locker. He immediately started changing into his workout clothes, which consisted of a loose black tank top and gray basketball shorts.

Ichigo watched out of the corner of his eyes as he opened his bag and pretended to shuffle around for his own workout clothes. He saw a whish or orange hair across the room after a moment, and stood up abruptly. "Shit," he muttered, hoping he didn't sound too fake. He'd never been a great actor.

"What?" Renji asked, looking up at him.

"Forgot a pair of headphones," Ichigo replied.

"Really?" Renji asked, rolling his eyes.

"Fuck off," Ichigo snapped. "They have pairs at the front desk for only a few yen. I'll go get some."

"Don't get lost," Renji said, going back to putting on his basketball shoes.

Ichigo grabbed his wallet, set his bag on the floor and stood up, heading over to the door. He furtively looked back just in time to see Orihime doing the same thing on the other side of the locker room. Rukia had her back turned to Renji. He turned around and waited for the locker room door to close before locking it. Luckily, it was one of those doors that locked on the outside. Attempting to be stealthy, he dragged a sign that said DO NOT ENTER in bright red letters in front of the door. There. Mission accomplished.

Well, shit. It had actually worked!

* * *

Renji froze when he heard the lock click on the door. He jerked up, stepping forward and grabbing the handle. "Shit," he muttered when it didn't budge. He banged a fist on the door. "Ichigo! What the hell?! Open the damn door!" There was no response. "Ichigo!"

"Renji?!"

His heart skipped a beat. He knew that voice. He was surprised to hear it so close to him though – and in such a non-hostile tone. He spun around slowly, not quite sure if his ears had deceived him. "Rukia?" he asked. "What are you doin' here?"

"I…I was going to go swimming with Orihime," she replied. "But she left to go borrow…" Her brows snapped down. "Wait a minute," she said darkly. She strode over to the other door in the locker room and pulled on the handle, hard. It didn't move. "I don't believe this!" she said hotly. "Orihime! Open this door this instant!" There was no response to her demands either. "Orihime Inoue!"

"Tch, bastards, locked us in here," Renji said, sitting down on a bench. He plopped his chin on his fist, staring off blankly.

"Why would they do that?" Rukia demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"To get us to talk?" Renji suggested.

She looked over at him darkly. "I don't have anything to say to you." The hostile tone to her voice was back now, strong as ever. He inwardly flinched away from it, though his face didn't show it. He hated it when she was mad at him; he made mistakes. Everyone did. But to know that he'd caused her pain…that was difficult. It was more than difficult. He didn't know how to describe how it made him feel. Awful? Terrible? Those weren't strong enough words.

He took a deep breath. "Well, then let me say somethin'," he said. She looked at him expectantly, her face wary. "I know I messed up, Rukia. Fuck, I…I should have told ya. I should have, and I'm sorry I didn't. I know…I know that's not enough. I don't know what else there is to say. I've thought about it every day and every night since…since ya found out, and I _still_ haven't found a way to say what I mean." He sighed. "I just…don't hate me."

She was silent for a moment. "I don't hate you, Renji," she said finally. "I could never hate you. Not after all we've been through together. But…you lied to me."

"It wasn't a lie!" he protested. "I just didn't tell you!"

"That's not any better!"

"Goddammit, I know that!" he said, tugging at his ponytail. "Fuck, Rukia…do you think I don't realize that?"

"No, you do realize it," she said. He looked up at her, surprised. "That's what makes it hurt even more."

They lapsed into silence. He was out of words; normally, he had a comeback for anything. But what could he say to this? He watched her out of the corners of his eyes. She had sat down on the bench across from him, staring at the floor. She looked torn, unable to decide what to do either.

"Tch," he snorted. She looked up at him. "What a pair we make. Two idiots who love each other and can't say a damn thing to each other."

"Oh, I could say plenty," she retorted. "But it wouldn't help the situation."

"And what does help?"

She shook her head slowly. "I don't know," she said softly. "I really…don't know."

"Well…tell me what yer thinkin'," he suggested. He didn't know what to say, what to do. He didn't know anymore than she did. But now he had an opportunity to talk to her. He was locked in a room with her where she couldn't avoid his texts or not answer his calls. She couldn't press delete on this conversation as she could on an instant message or e-mail. He felt instantly grateful that Ichigo and Orihime had given him this opportunity – even if it was in a sweaty, smelly locker room. He just hoped Rukia would respond.

"I…talked to Rangiku once, after we broke up," Rukia said slowly. She seemed to be thinking of every word carefully before she spoke it. "She told me that she had been in a similar situation." He froze; Rangiku hadn't actually spilled her secret had she? "Except…she said that she was the one who betrayed her boyfriend's trust." Well, that answered that then; Rangiku's story remained a mystery. "She told me that she regretted it to this day."

"And?" he prompted when she fell silent.

"And…she said that this was a moment in our relationship when we either fix things or don't," she continued. She looked up at him, her violet eyes torn. "Renji…" His name on her lips was like a caress; he couldn't believe how much he'd missed it. "I don't want to leave you like Rangiku's boyfriend left her."

"I don't want you to leave either!"

She snorted. "We wouldn't be talking right now if you did," she reminded him. The humor faded from her voice. "But…I can't forget that you lied to me. After everything." Her voice shook on the last note. "_Everything._"

He couldn't take it anymore. The pain in her voice was just too much. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them, picking her up as easily as if she were a child and swinging her onto his lap. At first, she pushed at him, trying to get away. But he wasn't so easily moved. He held her tight and refused to budge until she eventually stopped trying and just let herself be hugged.

And slowly, ever so slowly, she let herself be hugged. She gave in, melding their bodies together. She clutched the fabric of his tank top, burying her face in his neck. "Renji," she choked out.

"I know," he murmured. "Fuck, Rukia, I know."

* * *

Rangiku walked into the room where Gin was purposefully. She was going to do this. She was going to do it. She had to. It had bothering her for a few days now, what Gin had asked her. Did she regret their relationship? She hadn't answered. She couldn't. But the idea had festered inside her brain, like an itch on the part of your back that you couldn't scratch. It wouldn't get better until she just faced it head-on.

Gin looked up as she entered the room. "Rangiku?" he asked, surprised. He was bent over, practicing writing. The hiragana and katakana were sloppy, but legible. His penmanship was improving at a fast rate. He would be as good a writer as ever in no time.

"I don't regret it," she said firmly. "I never did, and I never will."

He set his pen down, giving her his full attention.

"I love you, Gin," she said. "I always have, and a part of me always will. You're a part of me. I can't forgive you for walking out on me without giving me a second chance. Especially after all the chances I gave you. But I can't forget you either."

"Ah," he said, unable to come up with anything better.

She stared at him for a moment. "So now you know."

"I do."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what do you have to say in response?"

He stared at her for a moment before breaking out into a smile.

"What are you smiling for?" she asked suspiciously. "That's creepy!"

"Oh, nothing," he replied nonchalantly, going back to his writing. "I'm just happy."

"Happy?" she asked guardedly.

"I am happy," he confirmed. "I am happy that I am not alone in feeling the way I do."

* * *

The end! Just kidding - still got quite a few more threads to wrap up. Please review! And go read Uraboku! It's AMAZEBALLS. And I hate that word, which tells you how awesome of a series it is. I need more people to fangirl with.


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